


Reunited

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Series: A Thousand Years [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Aithusa - Freeform, Angst, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon Returns (Merlin), BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Big Brothers, Bisexual disaster Gwaine, Crack, Dragonlord Merlin (Merlin), Epic Bromance, F/M, Family Fluff, Future, Gwaine Being Gwaine (Merlin), Gwaine Flirts (Merlin), Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Knights are a family, M/M, Might be more later - Freeform, Modern Era, Pining, Post-Canon, Sexual Content, Violence, so many feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:22:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 40,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22955569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: Gwaine wakes first, reunited with his friends, before they realise they have something in common. They should all be dead.Mission number 1, locate Merlin. After that, havoc.
Relationships: Gwaine & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: A Thousand Years [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706605
Comments: 280
Kudos: 721
Collections: Series that I want to read once they are complete





	1. Awakening

Gwaine was the first to wake. The floor was cold, that was the primary thing he noted, before testing each muscle. His fingers twitched, before he began to push up, looking around the space he found himself in. It appeared to be some sort of room, candles burning on the sides, cobwebs covering most of the space. It was then that he looked to his state of dress, blinking at the lack of armour, at the weird clothes he was wearing. They were soft, smoother than he was used to, and they certainly weren’t his.

Where was he? The last thing he remembered was pain, Morgana and… Percival. He had been dying, he was about to die, with Percival, in agony. His head snapped around the room, focusing on the other bodies. There were four in total, and as he dragged himself across, he went to the largest first. Like him, Percival was wearing odd clothes, but Gwaine didn’t dwell on it, reaching out to shake the man.

‘Percival. Percival, you big lump, wake up!’ The man stirred, as did Elyan, by his side. Percival’s eyes flicked open, blinking back the low light and flashing with recognition as they focused on him.

‘Gwaine? Where, ow, where are we?’ Elyan was turning to Leon, shaking him awake, while Gwaine looked over his friend for any signs of the injuries that had been there when they last spoke. Luckily, nothing. As Elyan and Leon slowly rose, looking just as puzzled as Gwaine felt, they looked to the last body. The four of them regarded each other, then the slumped figure on the floor, before Gwaine hesitantly reached out for the shoulder of the person, rolling them.

Lancelot. Lancelot, the man that had been brought back by Morgana to bewitch Gwen, was now opening his eyes and looking up at them in confusion. The five of them sat in silence for a moment, taking in each other, the clothing, the stone floor. Gwaine could already feel the headache coming on.

‘What is the last thing you remember?’ Leon questioned, looking around the group. Gwaine didn’t miss the hoarseness of his voice, the way it sounded rusty from disuse.

‘I… We were dying. Morgana got to us.’ Percival stated, looking to Gwaine, who nodded in agreement. He wasn’t quite ready to think that hard about it.

‘The sword… I was going for Gwen.’ Elyan pointed out, Gwaine wincing as he remembered the funeral of his friend. They looked to Lancelot, who seemed slightly confused.

‘I died. And then I came back. And then Merlin sent me back.’ Gwaine hissed slightly, out of defence of his closest friend, already knowing that Lancelot was aware of Merlin’s Magic, but the others were not. Luckily, they seemed not to pick up on it, looking to Leon.

‘Arthur… Arthur didn’t come back from the battle. I pronounced Gwen Queen, and then died in a hunting accident three months later, before…’ He trailed off, looking around the room.

‘We’re all dead.’ That appeared to be the conclusion, yes. Gwaine was looking to Lancelot, having already come to the conclusion that they needed to find Merlin, that he would be able to tell them what was going on.

‘Not anymore, it appears.’

‘Morgana?’ Elyan questioned, looking terrified, and rightly so.

‘No, she was found dead.’ Leon announced confidently, which then led them back to the issue at current. Where on Earth where they? And who brought them back?

‘I think you should look at this.’ They turned to Lancelot, who was staring at the wall. They moved to see, Gwaine freezing as he realised what he was looking at. Their names, inscribed on the walls. Beside them, carved into the wall, a place where one would presume a body would sit. Armour remained there, as did their swords, and it was nice to know that they had them. With the confusion and fear, a sword was a comforting sense of security, even if it would do little to protect him against a sorcerer, especially if they were of Morgana’s strength.

‘At least we have weapons.’ Percival pointed out, reaching for his sword, before a thumping sound drew their attention across the room. At the opposite end to the torches, a large, stone coffin stood. It was relatively plain, new-looking, like everything else in the room. Apart from the cobwebs, which hung in the corners, this place was spotless. Another thump, louder this time, a gargled sound that echoed.

‘Yeah, because that isn’t terrifying at all.’ Gwaine muttered, while Leon gripped one of the torches and began to approach. The others followed, Percival taking lead with the sword, and they froze. On the end of the Stone tomb, a carving of a coin, and some words that Gwaine couldn’t understand. However, the bit at the bottom, well that he could read.

_Once and Future King._

‘Give me a hand!’ Gwaine ran to the side, almost stumbling over how heavy his limbs felt, reaching for the edge of the stone. Trusting him, his friends assisted, the stone creaking as they pushed it aside. Lying there, with a very shiny sword, sat a disgruntled King.

‘What on Earth took you so long? I could hear you bickering from all the way over here.’ Arthur was aided by Leon, who helped him from the tomb, before the group of six stared at each other.

‘Sire…’

‘I am aware. We’re all dead.’ Ah, so Arthur had died as well. They took a moment to absorb that, let the silence settle, before Arthur looked to Leon.

‘Guinevere?’

‘Safe, pronounced Queen Regent of Camelot, and… Sire, I’d like the honour of telling you the Queen was with child, when I saw her last.’ Arthur’s smile could not have been brighter, Elyan looking just as shocked. A quick round of hugs, manly clapping on the back, was exchanged, before Arthur went still.

‘Where’s Merlin?’

‘He did not return to Camelot, Sire.’ Leon slowly said, and Arthur looked confused. Lost, even.

‘We presumed he died by Morgana’s hand?’

‘No, he was with me when…’ When Arthur died. Gwaine winced, as did the other Knights, all knowing how badly that must have hurt the man. Merlin had spent his life trying to look after the King, Gwaine and Lancelot knowing more about the lengths he went to.

‘We must find him. If this is sorcery, he may be able to identify it.’ Arthur took a step, before reaching back for his sword, pausing briefly to touch his side. Presumably checking for the wound that killed him, Gwaine knew what that felt like, could remember the agony of before. But it was gone, just a fading ache in his muscles, like they hadn't been used in a while.

‘Sire? Merlin?’ The stumble from Arthur confirmed what Gwaine believed, Lancelot speaking for the both of them.

‘You know.’ Now, Percival, Elyan and Leon looked confused, heads spinning fast enough that Gwaine was surprised they hadn't toppled.

‘Merlin has Magic.’ Arthur remarked, not with the hatred or worry that Gwaine had expected.

‘Magic?’ Leon questioned, slowly, as if he hadn't heard right. Honestly, was it that hard to believe? How many times had they seemingly got out of impossible situations?

‘He told me about it, shortly before my death.’ And wasn’t that a weird sentence. Gwaine could have chuckled, had Arthur not looked so solemn. Strangely, it was broken by Elyan, who gestured to the barred door to the room.

‘Perhaps we should find out where we are, Sire.’

**

Ascending the stairs had taken time, the Knights were not used to their limbs, but they had made it. Upon reaching the top of them, they found another barred door, this one locked. One sharp hit from Excalibur was enough to shatter the lock, and the gate swung open. Sunlight was filtering it, Gwaine shielding his eyes as he stepped forwards, only realising his feet were bare when they hit grass.

‘What…’ He realised the problem as well. This wasn’t anywhere he recognised, not the Kingdom he knew. Behind them, the stone building sat in the far corner of what appeared to be an open meadow, lined with trees at every edge. There was not much to see, apart from a weird looking building up ahead, a huge contraption that looked made of both wood and stone.

‘Where are we?’ Leon’s voice was shaky, as shaky as Gwaine’s would be if he spoke, he supposed.

‘Is this… the afterlife?’ Elyan questioned, looking around them. Arthur was too busy staring at the building, then the sun. Gwaine did the same, tilting his neck so the sunlight could warm his skin, enjoying the feel of it. For now, at least, he could pretend it was a good thing to be alive. Whatever had brought him back, he was worried it was a bad thing, that he would have to be sent back.

‘Do you feel that?’ Lancelot asked, and before Gwaine could ask him what the Hell he meant, he felt it. It was hard to explain, at first, a warmth in his stomach. Something calling him, urging him in the direction of the building in the distance, across the field they had appeared in.

‘What is it leading us to?’ Percival, never usually one for asking the obvious, said. So, everyone had woken up in weird clothing, having died just moments previously, and now could feel a weird tugging sensation guiding them towards a building they had never seen.

‘I hate to say this, but I’ve never missed Merlin more.’ Arthur muttered, sounding remorseful, and Gwaine had to agree.


	2. Merlin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group make their way towards the house

The sound of hooves were a familiar sound to all of the Knights of Camelot, but when they turned, it was not a sight they expected. One rider, a female, with a strange hat on her head and a bright smile, until she spotted them and it fell. The horse stopped, the girl dismounting smoothly, and Gwaine realised she was wearing a similar style of clothing to them. Not a dress in sight.

‘Are you guys lost? This is private property, you know.’ Lost? Yes. Private property? This was the King of Camelot, standing beside them! Arthur opened his mouth, then shut it, and Lancelot took lead.

‘Fair maiden, do you have any idea where we might find a man named Merlin?’

‘Tall, skinny, looks like he could do with some sunlight.’ Gwaine helpfully added, earning him a glare from Lancelot.

‘Usually an idiot.’ Arthur concluded, and Lancelot sighed heavily. The girl, who had been warily eyeing up the swords they were carrying, burst into laughter the moment Arthur finished his sentence. The Knights looked between each other, then back to the female, who choked back on the laugh when she realised they were not joining in.

‘You’re serious?’ What part of their question had been a joke, Gwaine wondered, looking at those uncomfortable trousers she was wearing. Why not a dress?

‘As serious as we can be, my Lady.’ Lancelot assured, and she cocked her head in a way that made it look like the hat might topple her head off. It looked far to heavy, to grotesque for a lady so pretty, even if she wore funny clothes.

‘Merlin? As in the owner of this land? He doesn’t take too kindly to strangers.’ Merlin owned the land? Well, he’d certainly done well for himself since Gwaine had died, the Knight thought, while Lancelot quickly hid his confusion with another stunning smile. The poor girl had no hope, Lancelot could charm anyone, and if the blush on her cheeks was anything to go by, she was smitten.

‘I can assure you, my Lady, we are not strangers to Merlin. In fact, we are his friends.’ Another disbelieving look, followed by a restrained smile. She took hold of the reins of the horse, pointing towards the building.

‘I can take you to see him, but I can’t promise he’ll be in a good mood.’ When was Merlin in a bad mood? He was the one constantly joking, laughing, making fun of the group and lightening Hunts with his jokes. Still, they followed the Lady, who led the horse back in the direction she had come from.

‘If I may ask, what time of year is it?’ The girl looked at them like they were mad, which Gwaine could understand, before replying.

‘You mean, like Spring? Or the month?’ Spring. The battle had been in autumn, and so many things seemed to have change.

‘Of what year?’ Lancelot questioned.

‘Are you kidding me?’ The Lady, seemingly perturbed by their questions, snapped. When Lancelot shot her his best smile, trying to calm her, she gripped the reins tighter.

‘2019.’ Silence. Complete silence. Apart from Arthur almost stumbling, Gwaine sucking in air and trying not to feel light-headed. That was impossible. Thoroughly impossible. What was even more impossible than that, was Merlin being in this age.

‘I see.’ Lancelot croaked, suddenly all charm gone, and she looked around at them with concern.

**

The silence had continued, but it became more and more obvious that the words she had spoken were the truth. For one, the horse was led to a stable, yet it was more advanced than anything Gwaine had ever seen. The girl had led them up a pathway towards a door, or at least it looked like a door, before hesitating.

‘I presume you’re aware, but don’t point out the other kids, alright?’ That didn’t make much sense, but Gwaine was more concerned with what the strange glass object was on top of the door they were entering to question her own logic. Inside, the walls were painted a clean, white colour. A selection of shoes were on a rack, as well as some odd jackets hung up.

The girl evidently lived here, she seemed quite confident with the way she moved them down the corridor. The place was grand, far more impressive than the Castle, and if they were in the future, this must be quite the place for someone to live. The corridor opened up into a large room, with a fireplace in the centre. Sofas stretched out, far more comfy-looking than the ones in Camelot, and wide, reflective box sat in the corner.

What caught the attention of the Knights, however, was the two children sitting on the floor. One, holding some small blocks and making a tower. The other, however, was aiding the construction by moving blocks. Through the air. Without their hands.

‘Magic…’ Leon muttered, and the girl leading them span around.

‘If you have come to call us names, you can leave.’ Anger, her lips curled up and a look of hatred on her face, someone who had faced persecution, Gwaine realised.

‘My Lady, we meant no disrespect, it is just… shocking.’

‘Shocking? At a home for children with talent?’ Yet again, Gwaine was baffled by the words, and his friends did not look any wiser. The girl waited for an answer, and seeing that she wasn’t going to get one, she turned away and continued walking. They left behind the two children that were playing with blocks, until they reached a staircase. It wasn’t anything like the stone steps of the Castle, these ones were soft with the fur-like flooring that covered the rest of the home.

‘The Headmaster’s office is just ahead.’ Another word he did not recognise, was that a title that had been given to Merlin? They followed her closely, and Gwaine was becoming more and more nervous. What if this wasn’t the Merlin they were looking for? After all, if this really was the future, then Merlin couldn’t be here. Unless he’d been resurrected as well.

The Lady paused, knocked three times at the door. No reply.

‘Sir, I’m coming in.’ Sir. Merlin. Gwaine was to dumbstruck to do anything, followed Arthur and the Lady into the room. The size was the first thing that struck him, the books stacked up the walls and to the ceiling, despite the high-roof. A desk, papers in a mess everywhere, and at the far end of the room, a ladder.

With a man half-way up it.

‘Sir, I did knock.’ The man didn’t bother turning.

‘Slightly busy at the moment, Alice, there’s papers here that come from the millennium.’ Two things struck Gwaine at once. The first, the fact that the voice undoubtedly belonged to Merlin. The second, the floating books that hovered beside him, even as he climbed down the ladder.

‘I know. But I found these men wandering the grounds, claiming to be your friends.’ The Lady, Alice, didn’t seem to believe their story that much anymore.

‘Friends? I can assure…’

Gwaine was staring right at one of his best friends. And it was Merlin. The same bright blue eyes, dark hair. The same pronounced cheekbones. But at the same time, this Merlin was different. His hair was slightly longer, stubble lining his jawline and his clothes were tight-fitting, a black pair of trousers and a white shirt.

The books fell from the air, hit the floor with a loud thud. Alice jumped, while Gwaine just stared.

‘Merlin.’ Arthur was the first to speak, that one word enough for Merlin to sway slightly, looking just as shocked as they felt.

‘Sir?’ Alice broke the silence, and Merlin turned his head to her momentarily.

‘Thank you, Alice, that’ll be all.’ She left, the door clicking shut, and the silence stretched.

‘This is impossible.’ Merlin muttered, one step forwards. Tears, welling up in those blue eyes that had always been so expressive. And that was all Gwaine could take, screw the distance between them, he abandoned his sword and went striding towards him. He didn’t care that the boy didn’t immediately hug him back, just pulled him close and kept him there, until unsteady arms closed around him.

It was only then that Gwaine realised that the ache in his chest, the tugging sensation he had felt, had completely gone. 


	3. Arthur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin isn't having a great time right now

Merlin looked up, regarded the situation, the back down. In fact, all of a sudden, the table in front was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. He couldn’t look up, not into those blue eyes that had haunted him for so long, remembering how he had failed in the one task he had. Keep Arthur safe. Keep Arthur alive. With Arthur dying in his arms, and all his closest friends gone… well. It had been a hard time for Merlin. He’d done things he wasn’t proud of, lost a lot of his determination and spark.

He was ashamed to look at Leon. The Knight that needed him to protect Camelot after Arthur’s death, the Queen that was all alone. The baby that he should have been there to help raise, to protect. But Merlin had fallen so low, his heart had been cracked open the moment Arthur took his last breath, and now the King was sitting in front of him. They hadn't spoken. Gwaine and Lancelot were happily re-telling their stories, the other Knights watching, and Merlin felt the guilt like never before. This was all on him.

‘So, when did you get back?’ Gwaine was staring at him, as handsome as ever, Merlin thought. He looked good in modern clothing, if a little odd, with the sword resting on the floor and his eyes alight with joy. It must have been nice, to awaken all this time later, with his friends by his side.

‘I… what?’ He blinked, still struck with the fact that they were here. His friends, his closest companions, back. He wasn’t alone anymore.

‘When did you wake up? Obviously, we’ve only been up a couple of hours, but you’ve been here for what, years?’ They thought he had been woken up too. They didn’t realise… oh, how could they? People didn’t live for as long as he did, they didn’t end up in a state where they had nothing left to lose.

‘I didn’t die.’ Merlin slowly stated, felt the words like sandpaper across his tongue, watched the words sinking in with the people across. They were in his office, Alice had brought them tea, although only Percival seemed interested in drinking it. At the statement, however, even he put the mug down.

‘What do you mean, you didn’t die?’ Lancelot’s voice was soft, caring, concerned. He didn’t deserve it. He deserved anger, pain, punishment for failing all of them, for letting them down. He wanted them to be angry, to shout and scream. Needed this to be painful, to forget what it felt like to have Arthur dying in his arms. Oh, he couldn’t look at the once-King, not when those blue eyes were filled with so much hurt.

‘I’ve been alive all this time. Since… since Camelot.’ Since he lost Arthur. Nobody moved, nobody dared to speak, until Gwaine moved forwards in the chair slightly.

‘All this time?’ God, he’d been so alone. Nothing had ever come close to the feeling of having Arthur by his side, nothing. Not even now, when he had just about learnt to live, did he ever feel the same.

‘You’ve been by yourself?’ That was Leon, who sounded… confused. Like they couldn’t possibly fathom living so long without anybody.

‘I have this place, now. I’ve moved around a lot, you know, seen the world, it’s not so bad.’ The words tasted like a lie, and he could tell it wasn’t a convincing one. They looked just as hurt as his soul felt. Still, Merlin would not look at Arthur, wouldn’t acknowledge the King he had failed.

‘Merlin…’ They were pitying him. He could see it in their eyes, the horror of him living so long without anybody. All these years, a millennium without Arthur and the Knights, a gap of time that he had been mostly alone.

‘We should start figuring out what brought you back.’ He stood up, ending the conversation that was going to happen, cutting short Lancelot’s pity-statement. The books around the room might help, he had gathered quite a knowledge over the years, was no longer the boy who was foolish enough to let Destiny run its course.

‘It wasn’t you?’ Elyan inquired, and Merlin risked a glance back. How many times had he longed to see them, just like this, back by his side? He had, in the beginning, thought Arthur would come back. Had waited by the Lake, for years. He should have known that just when he got over it, just when it became a miserable pang of grief, rather than the sharp stab, that they would come back. All of them.

‘No, I couldn’t… I tried.’ So many times, he tried to bring them back. Any of them. All of them. But Magic wouldn’t have it.

‘Who else could?’ Gwaine, a friendly face, one he missed almost as much as Arthur.

‘It’s dark magic, that’s for sure, I dabbled in it…’ He froze, regretting the words, back-tracking at the memories of doing anything to try and resurrect his King,

‘But that doesn’t mean it isn’t possible. You’re all human, you have your souls, there is no enchantment around you.’ He’d checked that the moment he saw them, had to know if he could let his heart open up again. He scanned the bookshelves, looking for anything that could bring back the dead, when it happened. The thing he didn’t want to happen.

‘Merlin.’ Arthur, Arthur’s voice, the same tone that Arthur used when Merlin was blabbering on about something, when the King wanted him to listen. It hurt so much, ached down to his core, and he had to bite on his lip to stop tears. Now was not the time to get emotional, not when he had so much to do. So, he ignored him.

‘Look at me, Merlin.’ He froze, swayed slightly as his brain short-circuited, placed a hand on the shelving in front to stabilise himself. Arthur, he’d let him die, he couldn’t look at him. Didn’t want to see the disappointment that had haunted his dreams for all this time. But then again, it was an order, and Merlin was used to following them when it came to the King. So, slowly, he turned.

His eyes were the same. Bright blue, the same boyish-charm that was turning masculine, the bright blond hair that always stuck up at funny angles in the morning. His Arthur, the King he would have died for, but that wasn’t enough.

In those few seconds, Merlin felt his heart shatter all over again. It was unsurprising, really, when he passed out moments later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Merlin :/


	4. Alice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see a little from Alice's POV, and Merlin gets the hugs he deserves

Alice didn’t know how she felt about the men seated in the room. Each one of them looked nervous, staring at Merlin like they could wish him back to consciousness, while Alice tended to him. She may have only been here for six years, but she had learnt a lot, from both Merlin and her older sister, who had been at the School previously. In here, in this wonderful place, children that society would often label as freaks, as creatures that weren’t natural, protected and raised under Merlin’s careful watch.

The government may not believe in Magic, but they certainly couldn’t deny how strong Merlin Emrys was. She sat carefully by his side, tending to the fire with small doses of Magic every so often. She’d never seen him look so vulnerable, but looking up to the people staring back at them, she had an awful suspicion about who they were.

It was not a coincidence that Merlin didn’t age. Everyone at the School knew it, had been fine with the fact that there would come a day when they were older than the man who taught them. Alice was rapidly approaching Merlin’s human-age, knew that they could pass for brother and sister, rather than a very old Warlock and a naïve young sorcerer. Her Magic may have been passed down her bloodline, but Merlin’s Magic was unlike anything she’d ever seen.

‘Is he alright?’ She liked that one. The one that had a shaggy-head of hair, stubble, and the most concerned eyes she had ever seen. He seemed fond of Merlin, had been the first to stride forwards and hug him. Alright, she’d been peeking, but she had never seen Merlin lose control of his Magic, not ever.

‘Fine, he’s just drained. It happens.’ Occasionally, on days when he went to the Crypt at the end of the Garden, and came back with soaked clothes and a storm rumbling outside. Nobody questioned how he controlled the weather, or if he was doing it deliberately. They just waited, for the storm to settle and the clouds to break.

‘Did… did you come from the Crypt?’ The men seemed confused by the word, the one that had first spoken to her flashing her a dazzling smile. It was comforting, and had she not had a crush on her Headmaster/Teacher/Friend, she might have found him intriguing enough to pursue.

‘The underground room? Yes, my Lady.’ Oh, now she was feeling rather faint. The colour must have drained from her face, because they all looked rather concerned, chivalry obviously not dead as they all went to help.

‘I’m fine! Fine, just… you do know how impossible that is?’ That they were seated here, staring at her? Her older sister knew the names on the Crypt, had been curious enough to push Merlin into giving answers. When he admitted that he had created the Crypt, used Magic to put their souls at rest in the place he built for them, she had been shocked. Alice was still shocked, staring at each man, wondering if they realised how much Merlin missed them. How much they still affected him.

‘My Lady, for one that seemed quite adept to Magic, surely the you are aware of the possibility?’ It took her a moment to realise he kept looking at the fire, then to her, and she burst out laughing. Everything about this was ridiculous, from the fact that there were six dead men in front of her, to the swords resting against them, to the fact she was caring for Merlin.

‘That? That’s a parlour trick, nothing compared to the energy it would take to bring you back! We haven’t had a sorcerer of any strength for hundreds of years, or at least, that’s what Merlin says.’ Her tone softened on his name, unable to stop the blush that spread when the man, the one that spoke to her, flicked a glance between them.

‘My Lady, are you and…’ She could tell where the sentence was going, blushed a dark read as she shook her head.

‘Of course not! He’s over a thousand years old, and I am barely twenty!’ That seemed to settle the matter, and she looked back down to Merlin. Already, his Magic was beginning to awaken, and she moved away to give him space. Watching his face carefully, she saw the disbelief play out as he looked across to the men.

‘It wasn’t a dream.’ The one that seemed to care most for Merlin, who she had yet to put a name to, didn’t hesitate to move forwards. Merlin may have flinched at the touch to begin with, but relaxed into it as he came around.

‘Merlin, you’ve got no idea how good it is to see you.’ She felt like she was intruding, watching something she shouldn’t as Merlin hugged the man. The charming one went next, a hug so tight she swore Merlin must have been unable to breath. One by one, each of the men hugged him, an emotional moment that she was honoured to be allowed to witness.

The blond one was left, and she didn’t need to be clever to know his name. Arthur, which meant the sword was Excalibur. He was handsome, in a stereotypical way, the blond hair blue eyed-combo doing wonders. The one that Merlin looked most nervous about, but Arthur merely stood, gripped the Warlock, and pulled him in.

For a moment, nothing. And then Merlin burst into tears. Hardly unsurprising, she had seen the storms he summoned after going to the Crypt, this was nothing. Still, she slipped out of the room, determined to forget the fact that there were six dead Knights in the house.

**

Merlin settled his emotions, told himself that he could do this. That the Knights may be back, but he could handle it. He led each to a room, explained how everything worked, like the shower and the radiators and the TV in the corner. They listened, rapt attention on their faces as he led them through the building. They would occasionally run into some of Merlin’s students, children of all ages, with Alice being the eldest at twenty.

The youngest, Magdeline, took quite a shine to Percival, promising to show him how to make his clothes neat and tidy by using Magic. If the Knights were worried by the blatant display of something banned in Camelot, they said nothing about it.

Strangely, Gwaine was the one that Merlin dropped off last. He hung back, unable to draw his attention away from the Knight, who was staring at the TV remote with such fascination. It was almost cute, had it not been slicing away at his sanity, to see all of them back alive.

‘I missed you.’ Merlin breathed out, Gwaine’s head shooting up. No judgement, no amusement, just an honest smile.

‘We missed you too. I missed you.’ Gwaine admitted, and Merlin felt his Magic rejoice at the fact that they were here, that he wasn’t alone anymore. He shut the door, waited until it clicked shut before sliding to the carpet, let more tears spill over his cheeks.

Something had brought them back. He would need to find out what, how, when and why, but for now, he could just relax, knowing they were back. That he had a chance to start over, to protect his friends like he should have done in the first place. He could only hope he got the chance, that they were snatched from him before he could keep them fully safe.

And Arthur, his King, the one that was said to be his other half. Finally, he felt complete, like he had the chance to be the person he should.

‘Sir?’ Alice was poking her head around the end of the corridor, evidently waiting for him, and he forced the tears away as he stood up. He had things to do, he could deal with the emotions later.


	5. Showers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwaine's liking the future

Gwaine, after finding out that the running water came directly from the odd contraption that Merlin had showed him, took great joy in playing with all of the buttons and dials in the shower. After almost scolding himself, he decided it was probably time to go and find Merlin, to express how sorry he was that they had left him alone for over a thousand years. The more he thought about it, the worse he felt. It didn’t take a genius to see his expression when he looked at Arthur, the guilt eating away at him.

In new clothes, tight trousers and a shirt that was white, he went in search of the Warlock. It didn’t take much effort, actually, the ache had returned as soon as Merlin had parted from him, and it seemed to lead him right back.

To the room they called Merlin’s office. Gwaine opened the door, struggling slightly with the handle, not that he’d admit that, and stepped in. Like he had been before, Merlin was flicking through books, face contorted in an expression that made Gwaine laugh.

‘Gwaine.’ Laughing had drawn the attention of the servant, no, not a servant anymore. Nor was he a Knight. Nor was Arthur a King. How… weird.

‘Merlin.’ He greeted, enjoyed the way that Merlin’s eyes trailed across him quickly, not missing the opportunity to wink at the man when he made eye contact. That was the Merlin he knew, the one that blushed such a pretty shade under any of Gwaine’s flirtatious remarks.

‘I’ve been looking for what could have brought you back.’ He turned away from him, and Gwaine felt the pang again, this time out of concern. Merlin was evidently struggling with the fact that they were back, and truthfully, Gwaine was wishing the man would talk to him. Not long ago, he had been dying, Percival by his side, embracing death in the name of King Arthur. He hadn't known how the King fared, and he hated to remember it, but he knew that in his last moments, his thoughts hadn't been of Arthur.

No, they had been thinking about a certain manservant, who was now walking in his direction with an old-looking book. Merlin hadn't aged a day, apart from the slight stubble that Gwaine kept staring at, he looked almost like the friend Gwaine knew back in Camelot. Speaking of, where were they? What had changed, in this span of time?

‘If you’re all connected, then I can see how many of you there should be. Just to check that nobody else is being resurrected.’ Oh, the chance to see Merlin perform Magic? To see those bright blue eyes, filled with sadness and longing, spark to life in a golden fire?

‘Count me in. Do your witchy stuff.’ For a second, it was like no time had passed, the banter between them coming with ease. Merlin’s smile, that he tried to hide, the fond eye roll as he looked away, trying not to find Gwaine amusing.

‘Idiot. Hold still, this shouldn’t hurt.’ A hand moved up to his chest, over where his heart was thumping away, and Gwaine found himself smirking.

‘Merlin, if you wanted to touch me, you need only… Ow!’ A slight pin-pricking sensation spread, and when Gwaine tore his gaze away from the hand over his chest, he found himself staring into golden eyes. Merlin’s lips weren’t moving, which was strange, but he could feel the Magic rushing through him, lighting up his nerves.

When the itch faded, Merlin’s eyes flicked to blue, and he stepped back. If he noticed the way that Gwaine swayed slightly, aching for the touch to return, he didn’t mention it.

‘Seven.’

‘Huh?’ He was supposed to be paying attention, but was distracted yet again by the sorcerer, who looked so… calm. How did he do that? Always manage to hide what he was feeling, especially from the rest of them, just like he had in Camelot?

‘There are seven bonds. Connected back to me.’ Ah, so Gwaine hadn't been imagining the pulling-feeling that had dragged him back to Merlin. When he found Merlin’s amused gaze on him, he took a moment to think about the words, finally reaching the conclusion Merlin had.

‘Seven?’ A nod, and Gwaine slumped into the chair.

There were only six of them.

**

‘Could it be Morgana?’ They were in the kitchen, and Gwaine was still getting used to all of the shiny contraptions that Merlin used with such ease. The Knight would have asked for a demonstration, so he could come and steal food later, but he was too hungry to care at the moment. Whatever Merlin was making, it smelt delicious.

‘Possibly, we’ll go tomorrow to someone who can tell us.’ Merlin moved around the space with ease, while they all sat at the table and watched. Gwaine was not the only one to have attempted to use the shower, it seemed each of them wanted to wash away the past-life they had, the death that they all remembered. Not a sword in sight, either.

‘So, what is this place?’ Lancelot inquired, a question they all wanted answers to.

‘A School. A home for those with… talents.’ Merlin stumbled over the word, evidently still unsure about the blatant use of Magic in front of them, and Gwaine wished to reassure his friend that, after everything they had been through, this was hardly the time to be shy. Even Arthur looked ashamed, like he regretted not making it clear that Magic was allowed.

‘Don’t let him play it down. This place is a sanctuary, for people with Magic. Children, who would otherwise be taken and tested on.’ Alice, the woman that they had met first, came walking into the kitchen with a child on her hip. One of the ones from earlier, Gwaine noted, the one floating the blocks.

‘Tested?’ Arthur asked, anger lacing the words. So, someone had a change of heart about Magic, Gwaine mused.

‘To see what makes us special.’ Alice handed the child across as she spoke, Merlin settling the child on his hip and moving across to one of the shelves. A square box on it, that he reached for and set on the counter top, before pulling out what looked to be a cookie. Gwaine had already decided that, if the future had cookies, he was quite happy to be here. Cookies, and Merlin, of course.

‘I’m going out to the shops, do you need anything?’ Once the child was snacking on the cookie, they were set on the floor, toddling off in the direction that Alice had appeared from. Merlin, snapped out of his daze, looked to the Lady in the doorway.

‘No thank you, Alice. Are you taking Will with you?’ The boy, Gwaine presumed, watching the interaction between the two with curiosity. It seemed that the woman was in charge of herself, a headstrong character that Gwaine could appreciate, it reminded him slightly of Gwen.

‘Yes, but I’m leaving the others with Max. Eleanor should arrive this evening.’ More names, more people Gwaine would need to ask about. Merlin waved her off, Alice disappearing from the kitchen, and Merlin went back to cooking.

‘Are we still in Camelot?’ Elyan went next, while Merlin handed them things he called glasses, filling them with a dark coloured liquid that Gwaine had been assured was not alcohol. Shame, he thought.

‘No. Camelot, well, it doesn’t exist anymore. We live in a country called Great Britain, made up of England, Scotland and Wales. They’re looked after by a government, like a council, although we do have a Queen. She doesn’t do much anymore, though.’ Camelot, gone. A new set of rules, a new governing body, and Gwaine tried to digest as much as he could. Merlin, apparently finished cooking, started plating up food.

It looked delicious. He didn’t know what it was, the long strands and sauce on top, but he was going to eat every bite. As soon as his plate was put in front of him, he tucked in.

‘Gwaine.’ Percival scolded, but in a joking way, while Gwaine just lifted his head with the weird strands half-hanging out of his mouth.

‘S’good.’ He mumbled, then went back to eating.


	6. Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment we need between Merlin and Arthur

‘Can you tell us what happened? To Camelot, to… to Gwen?’ Arthur looked pained, and Merlin could see why. Dying one moment, then next finding out your wife was long dead? They were convened in one of the living rooms, Merlin thinking about how best to pursue the topic. The truth, he owed that to the King, for not saving him.

‘Gwen was a good Queen. She had a son, and called him Thomas. She remarried, later in life, to a Knight from outside of Albion. They were happy. She was happy.’ And Merlin let her down, was too afraid to go and see her. The only time he went, when she was on her deathbed, dying of old age, surrounded by people who loved her. Merlin found tears threatening to spill, didn’t want to think about the way her eyes widened, hand reached for him.

 _‘Oh Merlin, I missed you. I was so alone.’_ He cleared his throat, shifted in the seat and tried to push memories of Guinevere away.

‘And the Kingdom?’ Leon inquired, a man of honour to the very end. Another that Merlin should have saved.

‘Lived long and prosperous. Arthur’s legacy spread throughout the Kingdoms, and peace was found.’ For everyone but him, away in self-exile, hoping that Arthur would come back. That he wouldn’t be alone, that he had another chance.

‘Did you go back to Camelot? To stay with Gaius?’ The mention of his father-figure was another hit, a stab to the chest, knowing that Gaius had died alone, with only Gwen by his side.

‘I… I travelled a bit.’ Didn’t even go to his Mother, not until Ealdor was long-gone and he visited the place where he could feel her the most, the place where their home used to stand. A coward, that was what he was, and now they were beginning to understand.

The others seemed to understand that Merlin didn’t want to discuss this anymore, backed off the topic with curious glances and a yearning to understand more.

‘Who do you think the seventh person is?’ A better conversation topic. They would be leaving in the morning, Merlin was going to take them to see if they could find out the answer to that question. Part of him wished it was Gwen, but he knew it couldn’t be, she had lived a long, happy life. Had moved on from the tragedy of losing both the men she loved, and her brother, and everyone that had loved her.

It had to be someone who died around the time that they did. And, knowing Merlin’s luck, someone he didn’t want to see again. Morgana, perhaps, but it seemed a little too dangerous. Bringing back a High Priestess would have taken skills that even he could not hope to have.

‘I’m not sure. But hopefully we’ll have some answers, tomorrow.’ He was slightly nervous about taking them all out of the safety of the house, worried about their reactions to the modern world. He had been introduced slowly, followed the progressions as they came, but the Knights were being dumped into it.

‘Get some rest. We’ll leave in the morning.’ Merlin stated, could see how Arthur was struggling to come to terms with the fact that he was no longer King, no longer in charge. The Warlock had to stop himself from calling the man Sire, from being there to wait on him whenever Arthur needed.

**

Arthur sat on the edge of the bed, stared out of the window at the night-sky. It was beautiful, he thought, the one he recognised even if the world had changed so much. Waking up, finding out that Gwen had lived a happy life… It stung, but not as much as he first feared. She had found love, happiness, and of that he was glad.

A knocking at the door startled him, and he fought the urge to shout “enter”. Instead, he stood and walked across, opened the door to find those familiar blue eyes, the ones that had been the last thing he had seen.

‘Come in.’ Arthur said, before Merlin could make an excuse as to why he was here. He watched the sorcerer, his once-manservant, the bumbling idiot still looking unsure of his own feet as he walked in. So many things had changed, Merlin was no longer the carefree idiot he had been, but a man that had seen too much to handle. He could tell, the way Merlin’s eyes couldn’t quite meet his, like every time they did, he was reminded of the death.

‘I’m sorry I left you alone.’ He meant it. From Merlin’s wince, he had hit the problem head on. Arthur went back to perch on the bed, waited until Merlin eventually sat down, in a chair opposite.

‘I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.’ How guilty must he feel, Arthur wondered. To be told that you were something great, to be told you had to protect someone with your life, only to watch them die? Arthur had been angry, shocked and hurt by the deceit, but he understood why Merlin had done it. The moment he knew he was going to die, he had given up the anger, it was not fair to place it on him.

‘You did everything you could, Merlin. I don’t blame you.’ It was awkward, stilted between them, not the usual banter that they used to have. The King, once-King, wished he could turn back the time, to when they had been in Camelot, wished he had told Merlin how much he respected him.

‘It wasn’t just a job, you know. I meant it, I was happy to serve you.’ He regretted the way his eyes filled with tears at the man’s statement, regretted the fact he couldn’t stop a lone tear from tracking down his cheek. Merlin was staring at his clasped hands, doing his best not to cry, and Arthur could see where his knuckles had gone white from the strain of holding everything together.

‘But I let you die. And I… I couldn’t go back. Not when I’d failed.’ That was all he could take, he moved off the bed to grip Merlin, haul him up by his bony shoulders. Some things never changed, like the fact that Merlin was still so thin, (Did he ever eat?) and Arthur gripped him tightly. Enough that there might be bruises.

‘You didn’t fail me, Merlin. If anything, I failed you. I didn’t mean what I said, I do know you. I know everything about you.’ He wished he’d done this sooner. Pulled Merlin in, held him in a tight hug and listened to the sobs as Merlin clutched at him, whispering apologies that Arthur didn’t need to hear, that weren’t needed.

‘I’m not leaving your side again.’ Merlin eventually muttered, sounding drained, exhausted, almost as much as Arthur felt.

‘Of course you won’t. How else would I find my way around this new world?’ Arthur snarked, saw some of the light returning to Merlin’s eyes, the spark that he watched die as he bled out in his arms.

‘True, an idiot like you wouldn’t last a day.’ There it was, the natural flow between them, and Arthur scowled even as his heart rejoiced at the fact Merlin was smiling again.

‘Clotpole.’

‘That’s still my word.’ Merlin retorted, moving to the door with a grin that lit up the room. Arthur watched him leave, his chest lighter, and turned back to the stars.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to get on in this world.


	7. Idiotic Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six Knights, one minivan, and a vending machine.

‘No, not like that, hang on! Let me…’ Merlin was almost ready to give up at this point, he had never attempted something so difficult in all his life, and he’d lived for a very long time.

‘Just push it!’ Gwaine cheered as he managed to get secure, the first to do so, while the others looked to him to see what to do. Lancelot was the next to manage it, then Elyan. Percival, surprisingly, managed before Leon, who looked like a lost puppy. Merlin took pity on the two remaining at that point, a brief glow of golden and the seatbelts moved themselves across the men, buckling them in place.

‘That’s cheating.’ Arthur remarked, scowling slightly, but Merlin ignored him. Instead, he stepped back out of the mini-van, trying not to laugh at the sight. If someone had told him he would take the Knights of Camelot, the most brave, honourable men to ever live, and put them in a minivan ready to drive, he would have laughed.

‘It isn’t my fault you’re incapable.’ Merlin snapped back, softening his expression when he noted Alice leaning against the door to the Home, a small smile on her face. Shutting the door on the complaining King, he went across to her.

‘Call me if you need me.’ Like she ever would, Alice was perfectly capable of dealing with the Home by herself. He really should give her more credit, he figured, she never once doubted him.

‘I will. Be safe, and keep me informed!’ It was weird, having a friend that he had known since a toddler, looping her arms around his neck to hug him. Still, he hugged back, reassured in the knowledge that her sister should be arriving today, and would aid with looking after the children, while Merlin dealt with the Knights.

Right, he thought, turning back to see Gwaine pulling funny faces at him through the window, Arthur scolding him, and Elyan somehow having swapped seats to be closer to Percival.

Just like dealing with children.

**

‘This is…’

‘Incredible.’ Leon finished, and Merlin kept quiet. No, they weren’t impressed by the land he owned, the rolling countryside that they had driven across. They were impressed by the motorway, of all the things, and the cars that travelled alongside them.

Merlin turned the radio up louder, glad that he had allowed nobody to sit in the passenger seat. He didn’t think he could manage, not when the journey was a couple of hours. On the plus side, they were almost there, he could see the hills in front, the thick trees on the land that he had snatched before anyone else could.

‘Are we there yet?’ Gwaine moaned, apparently slightly car-sick, and Merlin made a note to ease his stomach on the way back. Trust Gwaine to be the one to get ill. He took the exit, humming along and ignoring the idiots in the back, until they reached the entrance to the forest.

It was private property, although there were some conservationists on site. Mostly people that had grown up in the Home, or those he could trust. The group fell silent as soon as they turned onto the dirt-track, and Merlin realised it must be because this almost looked like home. Thick woodlands, the sun streaking through.

The wood-cabin looked just as Merlin remembered it, parked the van and opened the door to let the others out. He went across to see who was working today, told the others to stay put. After all, how much trouble could they get in when he’d only be gone for a couple of minutes?

**

Gwaine was stuck. He had found a machine, as Merlin told them could be the collective term, and seen what he presumed were snacks inside. There had been buttons to press, and a slot that asked for money, but he had figured the best thing to do was kick it. When that didn’t work, he attempted to get his arm inside, to snatch at the food.

Eventually, he realised he had his arm stuck, and called for Lancelot to assist. Lancelot, ever the idiot, brought Percival.

All these events led them to the present, Gwaine was still stuck with this machine eating his arm, Arthur was scolding him, Percival was trying to lift the stupid thing, and the other three were laughing. Gwaine, having resigned himself to sitting on the floor with his arm bent at a weird angle, rolled his eyes when Arthur started a lecture about how they should be remaining vigilant.

He wasn’t a King anymore, and Gwaine wasn’t a Knight. They were people, ordinary people, in a world that had so many of them that he wasn’t important. Not to anyone outside this group, anyway, with Merlin included.

‘I leave you on your own for five minutes!’ Merlin didn’t look impressed, although there was a slight smile that widened when Gwaine shot his best puppy-dog look, the others moving out of the way.

‘The machine ate me.’ Gwaine provided, like it wasn’t obvious what had happened, and Merlin shook his head fondly. That smile, the one that he used back in Camelot, it felt good to know he put it there.

‘It’s called a vending machine. And you put money in it, to get food out.’ Ah, that explained it. Merlin looked at the situation, crouched down to stare at his arm, then sighed. That could only mean one thing, something Gwaine was very excited to see.

Magic.

It was slightly anticlimactic, Merlin’s eyes glowed for no longer than a couple of seconds, his lips didn’t even move, and Gwaine’s arm managed to fall from the machine. Along with one of the snacks he had been after, which Merlin plucked out, offering to him. Mission successful, if you asked Gwaine’s opinion.

It might even have been worth the smack on the back of his head that he got from Lancelot.

**

‘You own all this?’ They were trekking through the woods, no new thing, but this time, Merlin was clearly in charge. The path had been laid out for them, trampled down, and Gwaine wondered how many times Merlin had walked the route.

‘Yes, although others can use it.’ Like the people that Gwaine had spotted in the Hut. He presumed they had Magic, Merlin seemed to be quite open around them, and he tended only to be like that if someone knew his secret. Well, not a secret anymore.

‘Why are we here?’

‘I told you, to find out who the seventh person is.’ Gwaine shot Elyan a look, before eating another of the “crisps” that he had victoriously won. Tasty little things, he thought, offering one to Lancelot. The Knight looked slightly hesitant, then took one, before his eyes widened as he ate it. Yeah, it was a lot better than the food in Camelot.

‘We’re at the base of a mountain.’ Arthur drawled, seemingly confident despite the tell-tale signs of nerves. None of the Knights would point it out, all unsure about where they stood now that the Princess was an equal to them.

‘Good, that means it’s working.’ And with that, Merlin walked straight through a solid wall of rock. The others seemed shocked, whereas Gwaine was more intrigued than anything else, stopping right in front of the mountain, before taking a step through.

It was lighter than he expected, considering he had just been swallowed by a mountain. Torches, like the ones that lit the Castle, led towards a pool of water he could see in the centre of the cave. It opened up as he walked along, careful of the rocks underfoot, and found he kept reaching for where his sword would be.

The others had made the decision to also follow, looking up at the great cavern with awe, while Merlin had reached the water. It stretched across the width of the cavern, stopped them from travelling further, and Gwaine wondered if they were supposed to swim.

‘How do we get across?’ Leon pointed out, his hand resting by his hip, evidently also missing the familiar weight of a sword.

‘We ask nicely.’ Merlin remarked, taking a step closer.

‘Freya?’ For a moment, nothing. Then, just like it had been practiced hundreds of times, a figure rose from the lake. A very attractive female, wearing a white dress, with dark hair and eyes that locked on to Merlin’s, a smile that spread.

‘I know you…’ Leon stated, looking unsure of how, while Gwaine watched the way Merlin flinched.

‘Meet Freya. She was captured by bounty hunters, brought to Camelot, and was cursed to turn into a Bastet.’ Gwaine was waiting for the full story, surprised when Arthur spoke up.

‘I injured you. A fatal injury.’

‘Arthur Pendragon, it’s a pleasure to see you. And yes, it was a fatal injury. Merlin was kind enough to gift me to the Lake of Avalon.’ That stopped the Knights in their tracks, they had all heard rumoured sightings of the Lady of the Lake, a creature that was beyond their mortal understanding. But she seemed so human, in the way she chatted with Merlin and laughed, the way she reached out to touch his hand. If Gwaine hadn't known better, he’d have called them lovers.

‘Could you bring the boat for us? I presume you’re not going to tell me the answer to my question.’ Freya, the Lady of the Lake that Gwaine was considering offering a crisp to, laughed. With a wave of her hand, the boat appeared, and Merlin thanked her.

As he was the last to get on, he stopped by her side and studied her for a moment. A creature of Magic, like Merlin, from the time of Camelot. A creature that legends were made of, a woman of such power that Gwaine couldn’t even imagine it.

‘Crisp?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all the comments and kudos! Quick question, inspired by a comment I got on the last chapter, who do you guys see Merlin being with? Curious to know how it comes across!
> 
> Another chapter coming soon! :)


	8. Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's worried, Gwaine lost his crisps

Merlin was nervous. Mostly because he worried that the Knights would freak out, that they would leave him alone again. And a small part, worried that this was still all a dream. That the answers to his questions would not be the ones he wanted to hear, that he couldn’t keep his friends. Because, looking across at all of them, Merlin’s heart swelled.

Gwaine was tempting Lancelot with the crisps he had been adamantly trying to get from the vending machine. Arthur was busy watching Freya, who was standing where she had first appeared, where she had summoned the boat from. Leon, Elyan and Percival were the ones looking around, awe on their faces as they studied the cave that Merlin had spent so much time hiding with Magic.

‘Is the Magic all yours?’ Elyan inquired, knocking Merlin’s thoughts out of his head as he looked to the Knight. He could see the pain, buried deep, the loss of his sister hurting him more than he let show. Yet, like Arthur, the acceptance of the life she led, the fact that she had a happy life, towards the end.

‘Most of it. Some is helped by Freya.’ When heads turned to find her, the Lady of the Lake was gone, presumably preoccupied with some other events going on in the world. After all, there was a lot of water, and Freya could freely travel between it all.

‘I think she likes me.’ Gwaine said with a confident smirk, the same flirtatious look that Merlin remembered so well, and the Warlock struggled to hide his laugh. Sure enough, not many of the mortals that had met Freya over the years had dared to look in her direction, let alone offer her food. But, by the smile and the fact she accepted the offer, he’d say that Freya had a soft spot for the Knight just as much as Merlin did.

‘Only you would be so crude, Gwaine.’ Arthur remarked, while Gwaine put a hand over his heart and looked offended. Whatever reply he would have shot back was interrupted, by the boat hitting the bank. Merlin was the first out, guiding the others into the darker part of the cave, sensing the way their nerves jumped up.

He turned, didn’t miss the way that most of them startled as he did so, hands creeping to where a sword would have been.

‘Just… don’t panic.’ That was about the only advice he could give them, or at least the only thing that would help in this moment. Slowly, he let the lights in the cave pick up, the flames at either edge burning bright and illuminating just how far back the cave went.

‘What are we hear for, Merlin?’ Arthur asked, the snarky remark falling flat, Merlin easily identifying the fear underneath. It only heightened when the sound of flapping wings filled the Cave, shouts as the Knights jumped back.

The Dragon looked more amused than anything else, settling down onto the rock and looking down at them.

‘Guys, I’d like you to meet Aithusa. Aithusa, the Knights of Camelot.’

**

It was a bloody Dragon. Gwaine, who had sadly dropped his crisps the moment the winged-beast appeared, was now over the terrifying part. Merlin had moved to the Dragon without hesitation, chatting away about things that Gwaine didn’t understand, modern terminology that had the Knight lost. He took the moment to adjust his own nerves, found Arthur staring at the Dragon with curiosity, while the Knights just looked terrified.

If he had befriended a Lady that apparently lived in water, he was sure that he could do the same to a Dragon. Especially seeing as the Dragon seemed quite friendly, talking with Merlin quite happily. He risked a step forwards, breaking ranks from the other Knights, and the startling blue eyes turned to him. From what he’d heard about Dragons, they had golden eyes. Yet these were quite blue, as blue as Merlin’s eyes.

‘I thought Dragons had golden eyes.’ The Dragon, Aithusa, as Merlin had called it, lowered its head slightly so Gwaine could see them better.

‘I picked up some traits, from my kin.’ The voice was slightly terrifying, he hadn't been expecting a Dragon to talk, but he quickly got over that in favour of the confusing sentence.

‘Kin?’

‘I hatched Aithusa, back in the time of Camelot.’ Merlin explained, although it didn’t really answer the question. Gwaine risked another step, curious as to how the white scales would feel under his touch. The Dragon lowered further, and Gwaine took the leap, reached out and briefly touched the scales.

‘Creepy.’ He muttered, dropping his hand sharply and looking to Merlin, who had a pleased smile on his face. If the man was idiotic enough to think a Dragon would scare Gwaine away, then he was wrong. Gwaine had already figured out that the tugging sensation, the one that kept him close to Merlin, wasn’t felt as strongly by the other Knights. Perhaps by Arthur, but the once-King had been very quiet about that topic, and Gwaine wasn’t stupid enough to push.

‘You come in search of answers, I presume?’ The Dragon had turned back to Merlin, and Gwaine retreated to Lancelot’s side, staring down at the fallen packet of crisps. A waste, he had just gotten Lancelot to try one.

‘The seventh person, who is it?’ Merlin asked, perching against a rock as the Dragon settled down, like it was time for a story. The Knights had relaxed, no longer grabbing at their hips where the sword would usually rest, although they still didn’t seem overly sure about the Dragon.

‘Although I am not completely sure, I believe it to be the broken child.’ Gwaine had no idea who that was, looked around to find everyone else just as confused. Good, he wasn’t the only one that wasn’t in the loop.

Merlin, however, had gone pale. Very pale, like the colour of snow that occasionally settled over Camelot pale. Gwaine wanted to go across and offer comfort, quickly found that every other Knight seemed to be struggling not to do the same. Merlin was a part of this odd, dysfunctional family that spent so much time together, or had back in Camelot.

‘Merlin? Who is it?’ When Merlin turned to them, Gwaine figured it out. It was the look of guilt, or maybe the haunting, perhaps the terror. All that, combined with the way his gaze kept flicking to Arthur, as if afraid.

‘Mordred.’ 

**

Silence, as the boat headed back across the water. Merlin, sitting up front, looking down and not bothering to make conversation. The Knights, having whispered between each other about how Mordred had been the one to kill the King, had settled into the awkward quietness. Even Gwaine, sitting at the back of the boat, looking back to the Dragon with curiosity.

The others got out of the boat, Gwaine going to follow, when a hand closed around his wrist. He turned sharply, came face to face with the beautiful Lady that lived in the water, her eyes brimming with concern.

‘Don’t let him suffer, please. He had been through enough.’ Losing everyone he cared for, being alone for a millennium, struggling to find a place to call home? Gwaine could, on some basic level, understand how much it must ache, the pain in Merlin’s chest. Maybe that was why he was tethered to Merlin with a stronger force, one that urged him to start walking now.

‘I won’t let him go through this alone, my Lady, you have my word.’ Not just because she had asked, but because he was just as concerned. Freya’s worried expression turned to a smile, and she placed something in his hand.

He looked down, grinned when he saw a new packet of crisps in his hand, looking up to thank her.

But the cave was empty, no sign of the Magic Lady that had just handed him the crisps, and Gwaine sighed. It seemed that his flirtation could only go so far.


	9. Destiny be Damned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slight filler, we see sad Merlin, a Lady that has power like Morgana, and a Druid boy that needs help

Merlin was the first out of the minivan, feet crunching on gravel as he left the vehicle. Behind, the others struggled out of the seatbelts, while Merlin looked to the Home.

‘Eleanor.’ Alice’s sister, one of Merlin’s best pupils, came rushing forwards to greet him. Her Magic had been beyond anything he had seen in years, had surfaced in nightmares that reminded him of his failure to aid Morgana. Like the Lady, Eleanor had the brightest green eyes, but these were not haunted from persecution. These were full of love, and happiness, acceptance of a gift that Merlin had allowed her to practice.

He had learnt from his age, had tried to stop himself from making the same mistakes twice. Eleanor stepped back, babbling happily about her job researching the dying practice of Magic in the Aztec community, while he found solace in the fact that she was here. Proof that Magic could be used for good.

The group silently followed, listening in to Eleanor as she recounted some of her tales. Merlin led them to his office, watched as she freely used Magic to prepare drinks for all of them. The Knight seemed unsure, still shocked by the blatant use of Magic, while Eleanor did not even register the fact that they were surprised. Self-confident, a woman that had mastered her skill.

‘Alice said you went to the Cave, did Aithusa tell you anything?’ Eleanor was one of only a handful of people he had taken to see the Dragon, when her nightmares got to the point of catastrophe, a fire that threatened to burn down the Home. Still, he did not turn her away, taught her the control and practice of Magic.

‘I… There is another. A soul wronged by Magic.’ Eleanor turned, to look at the Knights that she surely recognised. When she turned back, she looked concerned, took his hand in hers and squeezed softly.

‘It was not your fault.’ She didn’t need to ask who it was, she’d already figured it out from his expression. When he had first started taking in children with Magic, he had told them all the same thing. He could not promise them safety, or hope, or acceptance. He couldn’t guarantee that he would be able to look after them, to keep their Magic controlled.

Eleanor was, and always would be, the hardest to train. The one that reminded him of Camelot, of the Old Religion and the Magic practiced. Which was why he had called her back, to look after the Home while he searched for Mordred, attempted to right the wrongs of the past.

**

Dinner was a silent affair. Gwaine watched the way Merlin’s eyes lit up with pride when the woman, Eleanor, settled down some of the other children. Watched the way the pain radiated, the guilt, and understood what he saw. Despite not knowing Morgana before the Magic corrupted her soul, he understood that she had been a kind woman. And, from the shade of green that Lady Eleanor’s eyes held, Gwaine knew who Merlin saw when he spoke to her.

Alice ate with them, chattered to Percival and Leon about the Home, and how the place worked. Fifteen children in total, sixteen including Alice, although she was an adult. All protected by Merlin, by the work that he did to keep them safe. To allow them to practice Magic freely. Despite the fact that it hadn't been long for them since Magic was banned, the group settled in the knowledge that this Magic was being used for good.

Arthur was oddly quiet, had been since Mordred’s name had been announced. Much like Merlin, he seemed to harbour guilt, the two of them suffering quietly as the two women tried to lighten the mood.

‘Oh, you still haven’t replied to the invite! Are you coming?’ Eleanor seemed to care a lot for Merlin, from what Gwaine could tell, stared at him like she owed the man everything. Then again, if the story of how Merlin had taken them both from a dysfunctional family when Alice was just a child was true, then he could see why. Magic, given the chance to bloom, turned into something very special.

‘Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.’ Merlin’s voice missed the cheer that Gwaine was used to, the bright jovial tone that the Knights had come to love. Eleanor went on to explain to them that she was getting married, to a woman named Lily.

The Knights tried not to show shock, seeing as it was clearly not an issue around the table, yet Gwaine couldn’t help but wonder how much had changed since Camelot. Merlin rose his head, met his gaze for a moment before looking away, an assurance that he would explain this to them later.

Gwaine couldn’t help but wonder why Merlin didn’t have anyone, a thousand years without a partner would have turned anyone cold, yet Merlin still seemed… warm. Hopeful.

**

‘It was my mistake.’ Merlin slowly stated, and the Knights knew they should not be intruding. It was a conversation meant for nobody to hear, nobody but Eleanor and Merlin, in the Office. But Arthur had followed, and the Knights had agreed to listen to the conversation, and now Gwaine felt the guilt hit him.

‘You did everything you could.’ Eleanor soothed, and maybe Gwaine had been wrong about Merlin being alone for a thousand years. Maybe, they just grew old, left him much like they had all done.

‘Mordred…’

‘Was not your fault. And this time, things will be different. You’ll keep Arthur safe. We’ll keep him safe.’ Gwaine looked away, right at the point where the Magic between the two glowed, where Merlin sobbed quietly onto her shoulder and she held him. Some things just weren’t meant to be seen.

**

Mordred wasn’t quite sure where he was. His fingers dug into the dirt, Magic dulled down to an almost non-existent amount. An ache in his chest, that he couldn’t fight against as he sat up, looked around. He should have been dead, and he was inclined to think he was, because this was not the battlefield that he remembered. This was not him killing the King of Camelot, to free Magic.

He used what little Magic he could access, used it to identify the pain in his chest. Found the strain of Magic, and although he could not see what had brought him back, he could see where it was leading him. Mordred would recognise that strain of Magic anywhere, the same power that he had seen on the battlefield.

Merlin.

Wherever he was, Merlin was also here. And this time, Mordred was determined to make Emrys give him the answers he needed, determined to find out the truth behind the lies.

Destiny be damned, Merlin would tell him the truth.


	10. Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur says something he shouldn't

‘How exactly does this work?’ Gwaine inquired, peering at the table and the map that was on it. It didn’t look much like the maps he was used to, then again, they were in a different age. Merlin was moving around the room, pulling out different boxes and making a collection of items on the table. It was quite amusing to watch, the bubbly characterful Merlin was back, seemingly unconcerned by anything. I

A ruse, Gwaine now knew that, but it was nice to pretend for a bit.

‘It tracks down the bond. I’ll be able to feel all of you, but because you’re already here, I should be able to pinpoint Mordred.’ Nobody had asked what was going to happen when they found the man, although Gwaine was quite tempted to opt for murder. Although he hadn't said anything, the Knights could tell that Arthur was worried about Merlin’s determined nature to find Mordred.

‘It’s perfectly safe.’ Eleanor assured, from where she was standing at the edge of the table. She seemed unaffected by a hangover, had made them breakfast and handed them a drink called tea that had soothed his headache immensely. She had told him there was nothing magical about it, but he doubted that.

‘I’ve done it hundreds of times. Just not on this scale.’ The last bit was added helpfully, Eleanor scowling in Merlin’s direction before looking back to the map. Albion, no sorry, Britain was huge. So many places, so many things Gwaine wanted to explore, but knew he wasn’t able to. Not until they had found Mordred.

And then what? What happened once Merlin knew why they were here? Did they start a new life? Did Merlin really want them here? Gwaine looked to the Warlock, who was beginning to mutter words under his breath as he mixed things together.

Whatever it was, he felt it. The ache in his chest, the one that always tugged him towards Merlin, glowed brightly for a moment, before it dimmed back down.

‘Can you see him?’ Eleanor had taken one of Merlin’s hands, was guiding it towards the map. Merlin’s eyes were bright gold, swirling pools that Gwaine found himself staring right at, but his face remained blank.

‘Merlin, can you see him?’ She repeated, her voice stern. It reminded him of Gwen, in an odd way, which hurt slightly. He missed her, she had been a good friend, could imagine how much the others were missing her company as well.

‘Yeah. Yeah, I’ve found him.’ His hand shook slightly, trailed to the map, before the entire thing burst into flames. Leon shouted, Arthur jumped back, the others recoiling. Eleanor was quicker, dumped the glass of water from the table onto the map, dousing the flames.

Merlin stumbled back slightly, and Gwaine caught sight of the red trickling from his nose before Eleanor handed him what they called a tissue.

‘He’s waiting for me. I’ll go and…’

‘Where you go, we all go.’ Arthur stated firmly, cutting Merlin off before he could finish the sentence. Silence fell, everyone waiting to see if Merlin would obey the order. When he didn’t, it was hardly shocking, Merlin was never one for rules.

‘I’m not letting you near him! He has Magic.’ Merlin pointed out, and Arthur’s look of disbelief grew.

‘He’s always had Magic! It’s Mordred, we’re going together!’ The Knights, long used to the bickering between the two, were slightly uncomfortable at the anger in Arthur’s voice. Merlin had, after all, been the one to help them with the rest of the situation. Gwaine, despite not wanting the Warlock to go alone, understood why Merlin didn’t want Mordred anywhere near Arthur.

‘It’s too risky! I can’t let anything happen.’ Merlin stated firmly, and Arthur’s glare only intensified.

‘Like me getting killed?’ It was like the world went still, Merlin rocking back like he’d been hit. Arthur’s face fell instantly, realising the line that he had crossed, but Merlin was already storming from the room. It was followed by a clean, cracking sound as Eleanor’s hand connected with Arthur’s cheek.

‘How dare you!’ She snapped, eyes burning with anger, before she ran off after Merlin. When Arthur turned to them, it was for Lancelot to shove him hard, until his back hit the wall. Back in Camelot, that would have been a very big mistake. Now, however, it held no repercussions. Arthur looked shocked, like he couldn’t believe what he had just said, or the fact that his own Knight had just shoved him.

‘We’re not in Camelot anymore!’ Lancelot hissed, before he followed the others out of the room. The remaining Knights looked to the Once-King, before Arthur ducked his head in shame.

‘I’ll fix this.’ Whether he was trying to convince himself, of them, Gwaine wasn’t sure.

**

Merlin knew he’d reacted badly to what Arthur had said. He’d had a thousand years to forget, to bury down the images of Arthur’s body burning on the Lake. To forget how his dead body lay, heavy in Merlin’s arms, blue eyes unseeing as they looked to the sky. But, as he sat in the meadow and let out a scream of frustration, it felt like yesterday.

He let his tears fall, sobbed heavily as he thought of everything that had happened. Losing Arthur, staying by the shore hoping he would come back. Begging for Freya to come to him, for her to tell him if Arthur was alright. Of him walking into the lake, forcing his lungs to inhale the water.

Of sitting on the sand, staring up at the dark sky and knowing he could never leave. Of looking to Camelot’s castle, before running, fleeing everything he had ever known.

‘Merlin.’ Lancelot, walking across towards him. Merlin didn’t hesitate, turned and pulled the man in to hug him, held him like his life depended on it. He cried, didn’t care that he looked weak, let Lancelot hold him as he tried to get out the words.

‘Hush, it’s alright, we’re here now. We aren’t leaving.’ But they had, once before. And Merlin missed them, all of them, so much. Told Lancelot such, between choked sobs, until he had no tears left to cry. Fell silent, sat down on the ground beside his friend and looked out.

‘I burned his body. On the Lake.’ Lancelot didn’t say anything, just looked across with a pained expression.

‘I thought he’d come back. I… I thought he’d return to me.’ Merlin looked back out across the meadow, a wistful look on his face. Lancelot, who Merlin could tell was still staring at him, said nothing.


	11. Mordred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Druid's back, Gwaine looks good in a suit, and somebody has brought them all back for a reason

The plan was simple. Find Mordred, convince Mordred not to kill everything in sight, then find out who brought them back. Merlin shifted slightly, adjusting the tie he was wearing, looked to his side. When he had found out that Mordred had ended up in a police centre, he was hardly surprised. On his own, Mordred must have been very worried and lost, especially in the new world. Walking in, having assured the Detective on the phone that he intended to look after the man, he was glad that he’d opted not to go alone.

His first choice would have been Eleanor. But she was looking after the children at the Home, and Alice was with her, so he had to look at the Knights. Arthur was out, especially since they weren’t talking after last night’s fight. Lancelot was a good bet, but he was one of the only people who could calm Arthur down. Merlin looked to his partner, Gwaine, who was dressed in the suit and looking… shockingly handsome. Eleanor had dressed him, in a grey suit and combed his hair, trimmed his facial hair so it was stubble, a jawline that Merlin couldn’t keep his gaze away from.

‘Daydreaming?’ Gwaine asked, snapping him out of his daze. Merlin blushed, not missing the way Gwaine wiggled his eyebrows in a flirtatious manner, before looking back to the door. This was about Mordred, who had been found wandering in the streets with very little clothing, and kept babbling about how he needed to find Merlin.

Luckily, he hadn't said anything too incriminating. They’d tried his blood for alcohol and drugs, but they had evidently come back negative. What Merlin really needed, was to see how the Druid’s magic had responded to being brought back, for it might lead him to whoever had brought them back. Not many things, not of the magical kind, got past Merlin’s watch. He was, after all, Magic itself. He felt when someone had great power, like Eleanor. Could watch the Witches that practiced Magic, and those who still found a connection to the old religion.

‘Come on.’ Merlin grumbled, ignoring Gwaine’s wink and leading them into the station.

**

Gwaine had never been more confused in his life. He had presumed these people, policemen, Merlin called them, were like Knights. They protected their Queen, maintained order, looked after the citizens of this place called Britain. But they seemed to sit behind desks, with stacks of paper and big screens in front of them, carrying around no swords or daggers.

It seemed rather… bland. He liked adventure, the thrill of protecting the Kingdom, the rush of adrenaline that he got from it. This was the complete opposite. He watched them, leaning against the wall and wondering why he had to wear such a tight suit, although the Lady Eleanor had assured him that Merlin would appreciate it.

‘Right, he’s going to let us in. I’ll do the talking.’ Merlin was back, slightly flustered and with a worried look on his otherwise perfect face, and Gwaine gave him one of his best smiles. It did as he hoped, the man relaxing slightly, before they took off after a man in uniform. Strange, Gwaine thought, they weren’t the kind of Uniforms he had expected.

It was like a dungeon, only slightly more modern. That word was popping up a lot, he supposed, watched Merlin’s form tense as they stopped outside the door. The policeman gestured for him to step inside, so Gwaine gently placed a hand on Merlin’s lower back, an attempt to guide him onwards. From the way the policeman glanced to it, before looking between the two of them, it might mean something different in this age.

Mordred looked the same. Black curly hair, eyes wide and confused, skipping over Gwaine to focus on Merlin. So many emotions, things that Gwaine couldn’t even begin to register, while Merlin sat down opposite.

‘Mordred. We’ve come to get you out of here.’ The Druid-boy, the one that Gwaine had considered a friend until his betrayal, just looked shocked.

‘You’ve not aged.’ Gwaine shot a worried look to the policeman, who didn’t seem to find the statement weird.

‘We can talk once we’re home.’ Merlin offered, a slight tremble to his voice that suggested the last thing he wanted to do was put Arthur and Mordred anywhere near each other.

**

The punch came out of nowhere. Mordred didn’t avoid it, felt the sharp pain lace through as his jawbone was hit. It was followed by shouting, people wrestling Percival back, although the Druid noted that Arthur did not attempt to stop him. Merlin was the one that came rushing through, eyes flooding with golden swirls as his hand slammed up, shoving the burly Knight backwards.

So, Mordred concluded, they knew that Merlin had magic. He used it with ease, the hundreds, maybe thousands of years that he could see surrounding Merlin’s Magic had made him strong. Certainly, with Mordred having very little Magic, it wouldn’t be too hard for Merlin to kill him. Which he was surprised the Warlock hadn't done.

Emrys seemed afraid of him. Half-glances, worried looks, concerned eyes. All of Mordred’s life, he hadn't known where he stood. Aligning himself with Morgana, killing the King of Camelot, they had called it Destiny. He supposed that this was a very funny trick, bringing him back to the people that hated him the most. A way of telling him that he had been wrong, to turn against the Once and Future King, against the most powerful sorcerer to walk the earth.

‘Would you like something to eat? Drink?’ Merlin’s offer earned him some glares from the Knights, while Mordred just looked up at him. All his life, waiting for Merlin to explain what was happening. Why he didn’t trust him. Now, Mordred had been given a second chance. His Magic had been stripped down to barely anything, he was reliant on the man that had lived to protect Arthur.

 _‘Why not kill me, Emrys?’_ It took energy, to speak into Merlin’s mind. He saw the slight flicker of fear on the Warlock’s face, tried to turn his expression into one that displayed how… sorry he was. He may not like Arthur, not after the execution of Kara, but he was willing to trust Merlin. After all, Emrys had long been predicted, and now had saved him yet again. An eternal being of the old religion, he should have been pleading for his life, but he knew Merlin didn’t plan to kill him.

 _‘I did this wrong once before, Mordred. I plan on making it right this time.’_ He noted that Merlin had no difficultly speaking back, none of the hesitation that had come from his time in Camelot. Merlin suited his power well, wore his Magic with pride. Mordred was still confused, lost and afraid that once Merlin left, the Knights would kill him, but it seemed that the Warlock wasn’t going to kill him.

‘I won’t let you down.’ He said aloud, and Merlin’s eyes widened slightly. A barely perceivable nod, and with that, the Warlock left the room.


	12. Massages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slight progress between Gwaine and Merlin, and a cute bro moment with Leon

Gwaine found the Warlock in his room, slumped on the bed with his head cradled in his hands. If ever Merlin looked old, it was now, when the pain of the day showed on his face. The Knight walked across, let his footsteps alert Merlin to his presence, before reaching his hands and placing them on his shoulders. When Merlin didn’t stop him, he dug his thumbs in slightly, fingers working at muscle. He was surprised, mildly, Merlin had been nothing but skin and bones back in Camelot.

This Merlin, although still skinny, had broader shoulders and muscle that he could physically see. This was a common occurrence between the Knights, who knew the strains of training needed a well-timed massage to end the ache, but he had never done this to Merlin.

So, when the man tipped his head back and let out a small, pleased sound, Gwaine found himself amused. All that power, all those hundreds of years living, yet he was still as human as the Knights.

‘Talk to me.’ Gwaine usually didn’t do actual conversations. Not ones with emotion, or feeling, or anything like that. But now, he felt compelled to do so, wanted Merlin to understand that he could speak about anything.

‘Mordred wants to be better.’ Ah, that was what the freaky eye-contact that the two had shared. Gwaine had been preoccupied hauling Percival off of the Druid boy, although he hadn't put too much effort into it. Truthfully, he deserved worse than a bruised jawbone.

‘Do you believe him?’ Gwaine dug his fingers in deeper, smirked when Merlin sunk back against him. Back in Camelot, this would have been Gwaine’s idea of heaven. Now, he was just happy to have Merlin trusting him.

‘I’m not sure. I mean, I should have done better for him back in Camelot. But…’ Merlin halted, tensing under Gwaine’s hands, but the Knight didn’t stop that from deterring him. He moved down slightly, to the lower shoulder blades, waited until Merlin was ready to speak again.

‘I knew what Mordred would do. I was warned that he’d kill Arthur, but I ignored it.’ So, that was the guilt. Still, a little harsh to put Arthur’s life in the hand of one man, boy. A King’s life, no less, and Gwaine could understand the burden.

‘You were given an impossible task. We’re back now, and here to help you. I’m here to help you.’ He emphasised the last part, pressed hard into the tense muscle. Merlin made a sound from the back of his throat, one that had a blush spreading across the man’s cheeks, much to Gwaine’s amusement. He looked cute, embarrassed yet not pulling away, eyes fluttering shut.

‘That’s it.’ Gwaine coaxed, had a feeling this was travelling into something that he hadn't ever expected Merlin to give in to. Back in Camelot, Gwaine made no effort to hide his… flirtations. Women, men, anyone that he thought was pretty. It wasn’t exactly accepted, nor would Arthur have ever permitted his own manservant to be anywhere near one of his Knights. Here, however, Gwaine’s flirtation meant something. It always had, it was just accepted now.

‘You’re so good with your hands.’ Merlin mumbled, a sleepy tone lingering in his voice that Gwaine found himself wanting to hear more of.

‘It’s not the only thing they’re good at.’ He let the flirtation rest between them, enjoyed the way the blush now reached the tips of Merlin’s ears. Still, he didn’t pull away, in fact leant closer. Gwaine was unsure of how to continue, to push the advancement or just enjoy this moment, but unfortunately, the answer was made for him.

The knock jerked Merlin from his hands, quickly straightening his shirt although he had done nothing wrong.

‘Come in.’ Leon opened the door, glanced from Merlin’s blushing face to Gwaine’s defensive stance.

‘Arthur wants to see you.’ Gwaine was surprised to find the statement was aimed at him, also noted that Leon had finally managed not to call him “The King”. With one last look at Merlin, he left the room.

**

Leon lingered, Merlin unsure of what to say. His death, that was all on Merlin. He should have gone back to Camelot, to save what was left of his friends. He hadn't, however, and Leon had been killed. Alone, with none of his friends, and a wound that had to hurt.

‘I’m sorry…’

‘I don’t…’

They both started, then froze. Merlin gestured for Leon to continue, and the man hesitated, before shutting the door.

‘Merlin, I wanted to say, I don’t blame you for anything that happened in Camelot. I understand how hard it must have been, losing Arthur.’ Merlin recoiled, shocked and unsuspecting of the hurt that came with the statement. Leon, as if sensing that the speech had hurt, took a step closer.

‘I didn’t mean to hurt…’

‘No, it’s okay. I just… I should have come back for you. And Gwen. And Gaius. I just… I couldn’t do it.’ Leon was moving closer, and Merlin was surprised when the Knight pulled him in for a hug. He accepted it, revelled in the fact that, for years, he had been alone. Now, all of a sudden, he had an entire group of people caring for him.

‘I never said anything in Camelot, but I’m glad we’ve got you, Merlin. Like the little brother I never thought I’d have.’ That was enough for Merlin to tear up, pulling back to find that Leon had tears in his eyes as well. A rough-calloused hand ruffled his hair, a fond smile that Merlin hoped his face echoed.

‘Thank you.’ He whispered it, unsure why the affection made his throat clog up. Leon grinned, cleared his throat and took a step back.

‘Well, I said I’d help Lady Eleanor with feeding the twins. How you deal with all these children…’ He trailed off, and Merlin laughed. This, he had to see.

**

Arthur turned when Gwaine walked in, noted the glare on the man’s face. Honestly, all of the Knights were angry at him, not happy with the way he had spoken to Merlin. Arthur was beginning to understand just how much his Knights loved the idiot, how much Arthur loved him. It was bothering him, the fact that Merlin was upset with him.

He hadn't really thought of the moment of his death. When he did, it made odd feelings sink in his stomach, the pain of knowing he was going to die. Merlin, desperate to keep him alive. Being held close, Merlin’s tears, everything that made him want to cry. He didn’t, pushed down the feelings, and looked back to the man that he knew Merlin was fond of.

How far it went, Arthur wasn’t sure. He found a protective streak emerged whenever Merlin was involved, didn’t know if he was happy with the biggest flirt he had ever met aiming those skills at Merlin. Still, at the moment, it didn’t make a lot of sense for Arthur to be protective. He was the one that had hurt Merlin.

‘I need to apologise to him.’

‘But you’re pig-headed, and too stubborn to do so?’ None of the Knights, even though he was no longer King, would speak to him like that. That was why he called Gwaine, knew he would speak the truth. Even if it sparked Arthur’s anger.

‘I do care for him.’

‘Then show it. The last thing Merlin needs is for you to be withdrawn.’ That was, apparently, all the Gwaine-wisdom he would be blessed with. The man turned, walked back through the door and slammed it shut behind him, leaving Arthur to wonder if he’d been wrong to judge Gwaine’s affection so quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think of Gwaine and Merlin? More? Less? 
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoyed!


	13. Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mordred and Merlin talk, Gwaine's shirtless, Elyan's being a good bro and Arthur doesn't like emotions

Mordred sat quietly, observing Merlin, while the Warlock did the same thing. It was a tense moment, and the Druid could see how nervous the man was about sitting next to him. He was sure, that if he turned around to look back at the building that Merlin lived in, he would find the others keeping a close watch from the window.

‘You can’t hurt Arthur.’ That was Merlin’s main concern, and Mordred understood. He’d killed the King once before, Merlin wasn’t going to let him get that close again.

‘He killed Kara.’ That wasn’t what he’d meant to say, but it came out before he could stop it. Merlin startled at the sound of his voice, before schooling his emotions, looking at him with the fierce gaze that had been present on the day of battle. It lasted for a short moment, before the Warlock sighed, looked out across the garden.

‘There was a girl. Her name was Freya, she was a Druid, like you. I… I was going to run away with her.’ Mordred had heard the whispers from the Knights, about a Lady named Freya who had been at the Lake. The Druid was beginning to realise that he might not be the only one who lost a loved one because of Arthur.

‘She was killed by Arthur, for she turned into a beast at night. A curse, she couldn’t control it.’ The way he spoke, the wistful look in his gaze and the hope that laced the tone, it still sounded like it pained him. Mordred found himself wanting Merlin to tell him more, to teach him how to deal with the grief that welled up in his chest whenever he thought of her.

‘Were you not mad?’ He knew it was a stretch, from anger, to killing the King of Camelot, but maybe Merlin could explain. Maybe, he could teach Mordred why destiny wasn’t the end of who a person was.

‘At myself? Yes. At Arthur? Never. He… He was raised to hate Magic, and look how far he had come.’ Mordred had to admit, that Arthur was more accepting than he had feared. Merlin was still favoured, despite the Magic he harboured.

‘He’ll never trust me.’ Merlin chuckled, like it was a funny statement, while Mordred just stared at him in confusion.

‘You were one of his Knights. He trusted you with his life.’ And Mordred had repaid him by killing him, he thought sadly, felt the bitterness grow into something vile inside. Merlin looked across at him, like he could sense what the Druid was thinking, and offered a small, tight smile.

‘We can work on it. Together.’ It was everything he had wanted, when he’d first come to Camelot. For Merlin to respect him, to treat him as a friend. The great Emrys, the Warlock of legends.

‘I have no magic.’ Mordred stated solemnly, the ache inside heightened now that he realised just how powerless he was. Merlin paused, before offering out his hand, and Mordred eyed it up warily.

‘Trust me.’ A leap of faith, Mordred offered out his hand, and Merlin turned his palm so it faced the sky. Slowly, he felt it, the familiar warmth of Magic. Merlin’s eyes, although they remained blue, seemed to light up as the flame appeared in his palm, danced over the skin. His own Magic, brought forth by the Warlock in front.

‘How…’ So many things he didn’t understand, that Merlin could teach him. The Warlock shrugged, a lopsided grin on his face.

‘Magic.’ He joked, and Mordred cracked a smile back. It was a start.

**

Gwaine invited the person in, turned to find Merlin standing in the doorway. Of course, the Warlock blushed when he noted that Gwaine was walking around without a shirt on, but in his defence, he had just had a shower.

‘You’re too nice.’ Gwaine stated, having kept a close eye on him and Mordred earlier. Merlin sighed, shut the door and stepped in closer. It was then that Gwaine noted the tired expression, the big, sad eyes that showed how fed up he was.

‘He deserves a second chance.’ It sounded like he didn’t quite believe what he had just said, so Gwaine walked across, didn’t hesitate to reach out and place a hand on Merlin’s shoulder.

‘We trust you, Merlin. Whatever you decide…’ When Merlin looked up, met his eye, he was slightly shocked by the look in the bright blue eyes. Gwaine suddenly realised quite how close they were, and when Merlin’s gaze flicked down to his lips, then back up, it left very little doubt.

Still, he leant in slowly, watching Merlin’s reaction for any signs of hesitation. When the Warlock offered none, even tilted his head slightly to meet Gwaine, the Knight gave in.

The kiss, if you could call it that, was brief. A mere ghosting of lips, followed by Merlin’s forehead resting against his, a sign of solitude, of understanding. It wasn’t Gwaine that moved the second time, Merlin was the one to initiate the kiss. Deeper, firmer, a demand more than a gentle ask.

He was more than willing, let Merlin’s hands wander to his chest while he gripped the loops in Merlin’s trousers and tugged him closer. The gasp that Merlin gave was delicious, he swallowed it down quickly and started walking the two of them towards the wall, where Merlin quite happily gave up control and let Gwaine balance their weight, deepening the kiss.

He tasted of mint, of the cookies that Gwaine would steal from the kitchen, of the delectable drink told him was called Tea. So utterly Merlin, a taste that he didn’t think he’d ever get enough of, letting his lips leave the smaller man’s in favour of kissing along his jawline, ducking his head to Merlin’s neck.

‘Gwaine? You in there?’ Gwaine almost dropped his hold on Merlin, while the Warlock squeaked in the most adorable way, stumbling back and trying to adjust his shirt, Gwaine clearing his throat before turning to the door.

‘Yeah, come in.’ Elyan opened the door, looked between them much like Leon had done. Merlin excused himself quickly, slipping out of the door, and Elyan turned his gaze to Gwaine.

‘If you hurt him…’

‘You’ll kill me, yes, I know.’ Gwaine may have been mock-annoyed at the warning, but it touched him that the Knights were so protective over Merlin. Elyan gave an approving nod, before grabbing a shirt from the open drawer and throwing it at him.

‘Lady Eleanor said she’d take us shopping. Hurry up.’

**

Arthur was heading down to meet the group in the kitchen when he ran into Merlin, who almost tripped over. The man quickly grabbed the Warlock, righting him, then dropped his hands like they burnt.

‘Arthur…’

‘Merlin…’

A brief pause, before they both chuckled, and Merlin offered a smile.

‘I’m sorry, for overreacting earlier.’ Trust Merlin to apologise for something he definitely didn’t need to. Arthur, swallowing down his pride and trying his best to not let emotion take over, put on his best no-nonsense voice. Gwaine had been right, it was time he supported Merlin.

‘I should be the one apologising, I was out of line. I’m sorry, Merlin. It was insensitive.’ From the wide eyed look he was given, Merlin was very confused, and Arthur wanted to break the emotional moment as quickly as possible. A manly slap on the shoulder, and Arthur walked on, feeling slightly less guilty.


	14. Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleanor's part of the family, and Merlin is trying to include Mordred

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to MultiFandomTrash_1304 for the suggestion of the conversation, I hope it's okay that I made it between Eleanor and Gwaine!

‘You know it’s legal, right?’ Gwaine startled slightly, looked across to Lady Eleanor, who looked like a patient Mother organising her children. He then turned his attention back to the Knights, running around the store and picking up different things, understanding her complexion all of a sudden.

‘What is?’ He frowned as she picked something off one of the shelves, a strange looking bunch of yellow things, which she quickly told him were bananas. A fruit, and she said he could have one later. The entire idea of getting food by walking around a big room, then taking it to another person at the entrance to the building and handing across the money, it was foreign to him.

‘Liking men.’ He almost choked, turned sharply to look at Eleanor, who seemed unbothered by his flustered state.

‘Or both. Being Bi is fine.’ Gwaine looked around to check that nobody was listening, before questioning her statement.

‘Bi?’ Eleanor turned to him, a smile on her face, the same look she had given him when dressing him in a suit.

‘Bisexual. Liking both men and women.’ Oh, that made sense if he thought about it. Back in Camelot, although he had never hidden his liking for both, it hadn't really been accepted. There were words for people like him, a lot harsher than the one Eleanor just told him. The only thing that had saved him was his status as a Knight, otherwise it could have been a lot worse.

‘Is it that obvious?’ His friends had picked up on it, as well. He wasn’t sure how, he did nothing more than gaze at Merlin when they were as a group, but it was hard to not stare.

‘I haven’t seen him stare like that at anyone, perhaps Freya aside.’ The mention of the Lady that had handed him a new packet of crisps shocked him, he had presumed there had been something between the two, but he wasn’t sure.

‘They were an item?’

‘Back in Camelot, apparently. Very short-lived.’ Her death, presumably, or the reason she became an inhabitant of water. Gwaine processed the new information, before thanking the Lady Eleanor and going to catch up with his friends.

Arthur was the one he found first, staring at a packet of something that Gwaine read as chocolate. Having been given some from Merlin, they both knew how good it tasted, so Arthur was the one to snatch a bar and take it back to the trolley.

Eleanor chuckled, but nodded her head for Arthur to add it to the pile.

**

‘We’ll start with something simple.’ Merlin suggested, having opted for one of the training rooms for today’s session. Mordred gave a hesitant nod, sitting cross-legged opposite him, while the others sat around the room with different items that Eleanor had bought them. Well, it was his money, but it was still amusing to see Gwaine with chocolate all around his mouth, or Percival attempting to peel a banana.

‘I’m unsure that I’ll be anything to do anything, my Magic is quite weak.’ Mordred’s frown made him look younger, reminded Merlin that he should have guided the Druid better when he was growing up.

‘Good.’ Elyan muttered, and a couple of the Knights sniggered. They were like a bunch of schoolboys, picking on the weakest of the group, but Merlin could hardly scold them for it.

‘Ignore them, it’s what I usually do.’ Merlin suggested to the upset Mordred, while Gwaine gasped in mock-offence.

‘How about something simple? What’s your favourite thing to do with your Magic?’ Mordred cocked his head, looked rather lost, and Merlin was beginning to think that he might have to go back to the beginning. Eleanor might be able to help, she was a very good teacher to the little ones now, had learnt to control her Magic to an incredible standard.

Speaking of, Eleanor opened the door just at that moment, glanced around the room until she spotted him.

‘Ah, Eleanor, just the person I wanted.’ He smiled up at her, while she rolled her eyes and snatched the squashed banana that Percival was still struggling with, peeling it quickly and handing it back.

‘What can I do for you?’ He repeated the question to her, and Eleanor shrugged, turned her palm upright and muttered the words. The group fell silent as sparks flicked from her skin, jumping up into the air around her and exploding, much like fireworks. For the group around, who had never seen such a thing, they looked fascinated.

‘That’s incredible.’ Mordred stated, eyes wide with appreciation. Eleanor offered him a brief smile, before nodding to Merlin.

‘His is better.’ When Mordred looked to him, Merlin hesitantly called on his Magic. He didn’t need words, nor had to move his hand, he could control his gift with a simple thought. Sure enough, the first blue butterfly formed, taking to the sky quickly. Others soon formed, followed in the first one’s wake, chasing the ceiling as they multiplied and fluttered around.

Eleanor reached for one, let it land on her hand and smiled down at it.

‘Are they real?’ Arthur asked, while Gwaine stretched out with sticky fingers, delighted when one landed on the end of his finger.

‘If I want them to be.’ Merlin answered, before the butterflies vanished entirely, and Merlin turned back to Mordred.

‘Now you.’

**

Eleanor was cooking lunch, while the Knights discussed what they had seen. It had taken Mordred a long time to coax a single flame to his hand, so they were less worried, she could tell.

‘Lady Eleanor…’ Lancelot, the one charming Alice, spoke up, and she smiled across at him.

‘Yes, Lancelot?’

‘How long have you known Merlin?’ It wasn’t the question she had been expecting, but then again, the Knights were curious people. They wanted to know more about the friend they had left, and that was understandable.

‘Almost all of my life. He saved me and my sister from disgrace, helped us look after our gift.’ She owed him a lot, he had given her a chance she would never have gotten normally. She’d seen the world, travelled to aid others with a gift, and that was all thanks to Merlin.

‘Forgive me, my Lady, but you remind me of someone I used to know.’ Leon was looking to Arthur, and Eleanor recognised the look.

‘Lady Morgana, you mean?’ Merlin had, once, told her the same thing. When she accidentally burned down the room she was staying in, at the tender age of twelve, and called herself a monster. Merlin had been the one to assure her that she was anything but, that it was the wielder of Magic that decided if they were evil, or good.

‘I did not mean offence…’ Leon began, evidently shocked that she knew, and she quickly cut him off,

‘It is not an insult, Leon. Merlin told me much about her, before she spiralled into her Magic.’

‘Merlin told you?’ Arthur asked, looking slightly surprised. Eleanor looked to the Once-King, thought about everything she knew of him.

‘Yes. When I was younger, I struggled with the power I had been given, it kept lashing out and harming those around me. Merlin was the one to assure me that I could choose, whether to use it for good, or for evil.’ Not that Morgana had really chosen, from what Merlin had said, it seemed like she had very good reasons for anger. But anger tortured the soul, and it could twist Magic into something dark.

‘You seem close.’ Elyan inputted, and she smiled.

‘I owe Merlin a lot. He’s my closest friend, one of the only people that I trust.’ It was the truth, besides Alice, there were very few that she held in such regard.

‘And Alice? Does she…’ Gwaine trailed off, but Eleanor understood. Did her sister realise that Merlin would never see her in the light that she held him in. Truthfully, Eleanor had hoped her sister would grow out of the crush, hoped that perhaps one of the Knights might take her fancy. Besides, it was clear that Merlin had eyes for nobody but the dark-haired Knight.

‘If you’re worried about competition, Gwaine, you shouldn’t be.’ The others laughed, Gwaine scoffed and puffed his chest out in a display of arrogance, looking pleased with himself, and Eleanor felt a smile tugging at her lips.

One big, dysfunctional family.


	15. Moving forwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay I really went overboard, this chapter is so much longer than the others! I'm just getting excited for the main plot, so have some more family fluff, a chinese meal, and a worried Merlin.

‘It might work.’ Merlin argued, and Eleanor fought the urge to raise her voice.

‘And if it does not?’ They both knew the answer to that, and although she did not know the full extent of what they would see, she could imagine it would not be pretty. The door slowly opened, Leon poking his head around, regarding the two of them hesitantly.

‘Is everything okay?’ He asked, focused the question on Merlin, but Eleanor knew he wasn’t going to answer that. He was too busy staring at the spell, at the ingredients he had been gathering behind her back, like he would have done the spell without her.

‘I’ve found something that might help us identify what brought you back.’ Merlin began, voice hesitant. Eleanor watched Leon’s face closely, saw the relief, then the worry. If it had been something bad, someone with ulterior motives, it could be difficult for them to handle. Then again, if it was good news, it would put Merlin’s fears to rest.

‘That’s… good. Right?’ He looked to Eleanor, and she sighed.

‘It holds some complications. Which we should discuss, with everybody.’ Merlin looked ready to argue, but she nodded to Leon, who hurried to obey.

‘I’m trying to help you, Merlin.’ He knew that, deep down. She could see it in the way he offered a smile, even if it was a sad one.

**

It felt like an invasion of privacy. Merlin knew how bad it could be, but he also knew that there was nothing he wouldn’t give to keep the Knights safe. Eleanor recounted the spell, what it would involve, the side effects that it might give.

‘We see anything that could be related to who brought us back?’ Elyan questioned, and the two of them nodded.

‘But, that means we see Merlin’s memories.’ Arthur concluded, looking to him. Merlin broke the gaze, studied the floor of his office and tried not to think about the horrors that they might find. A thousand years was a long time for someone to live, and he hadn't always been the person he was now.

‘I trust you.’ Merlin answered, in response to Arthur’s statement. Eleanor sighed, shuffled closer to him and offered out her hand. He didn’t hesitate to take it, called her Magic forwards and let it rest against his. Comforting, after all these years, to have somebody that he could do that with. It had happened occasionally, he’d met other sorcerers before, but none that met a nice fate.

‘Is it the only way?’

‘We believe so. It would give us a chance, to see what links we might have missed. Plus, if more than one person has the memories, they might spot something Merlin missed.’ Eleanor added the last bit, looking thoughtful. Merlin noted that Mordred was watching the two of them, where their hands were joined and they were sharing Magic. He’d teach him how to do that, eventually, if the need arose.

‘I cannot guarantee that they won’t be distressing.’ Knowing his luck, they might be the worst memories he had. But, if he was to find out who had the power to bring Arthur Pendragon and the Knights of Camelot back to life, he needed to forget about himself for the moment.

‘There’s very little we haven’t seen.’ Leon stated, offering a reassuring smile. Brothers, that was what he had said, and Merlin risked a smile back. He didn’t want to point out how wrong the Knight was, that there were horrors that they wouldn’t ever think of.

‘Some may be of Camelot.’ He warned, trying desperately for them to call this off. If they did, then it wouldn’t be on his shoulders. Unfortunately, these were the bravest men he knew.

‘And we will bear it. We’re a family, we’re in this together.’ Percival, never usually one for emotional speeches, declared. The others nodded, faces firm, and Merlin looked to Mordred.

‘I’m invited?’ He wouldn’t call it an invite, seeing Merlin’s relevant memories was hardly going to be a fun occasion. Arthur’s face hardened, as did the other Knights’, tense at the mention.

‘No way.’ Leon snapped, the others glaring in Mordred’s direction. Merlin went to open his mouth, but Elyan interrupted.

‘Letting him see your personal memories? He could use them against you!’ As much as Merlin feared what Mordred could do, he was also a pragmatic person. The Druid had barely any power, and Merlin had spent over a thousand years using his. There was no way that Mordred could do anything, even if he wanted to.

‘I have no intention of hurting…’

‘Oh that’s reassuring, coming from you.’ Percival snapped. Even Lancelot, the friendliest of the group, did not argue.

So, when somebody did, it was shocking.

‘It’s Merlin’s decision.’ Gwaine stated, but he didn’t let up on the glare he was levelling at Mordred. Merlin shot him a thankful look, then turned back to the Druid.

‘Yes, you’re invited. I need someone else with Magic, in case you can understand anything I didn’t.’ It made logical sense, and seeing as Eleanor would be ensuring they were all safe, she could not see the memories herself.

The others grumbled, but did not argue. Not even Arthur, although he did punch Gwaine in the shoulder.

‘What will it be like?’ Lancelot inquired, a curious look on his face.

‘It’ll be like you’re there, personally. You’ll see everything I did, hear anything I managed to. Some memories might skip bits, things that don’t seem relevant to the question.’ To the reason that his wish had come true, they were finally all back.

‘If you’re sure, then we’re by your side.’ Lancelot stated, and the others agreed quickly. Eleanor sighed, nudged Merlin with her shoulder while squeezing his hand softly.

‘We’ll do it in the morning. For now, rest.’ He would have pointed out that he was far too old to be mothered in such a way, but her eyes showed no signs of letting him off the hook, so he agreed.

‘I think a takeaway is in order, to prepare.’ Merlin teased her, while the others looked confused.

‘What’re you thinking?’ He wondered what would be the funniest to see, and decided that Gwaine attempting to eat noodles might be amusing.

‘Chinese.’

**

Gwaine was struggling with the weird, worm-like things. It wasn’t quite spaghetti, and it tasted brilliant, so he eventually just decided that loudly slurping them was the most effective method. Arthur was doing the same, as was Percival. The others were still battling, still had hope they might effectively find a way to eat such items.

Eleanor and Merlin were quiet, in the corner, huddled together. Alice had been with them, until a look of jealousy was shot in her older sister’s direction and she walked off. Gwaine snatched one of Arthur’s prawn crackers, earning him a spring-roll to the face, while the others continued trying a little bit of everything.

‘If this goes wrong…’ Merlin’s whisper was quiet, but Gwaine could lipread. Eleanor didn’t look impressed, shook her head and glared at him.

‘It won’t. If anyone can do this, Merlin, it’s you. You’re stronger than you think.’ Gwaine wasn’t sure how strong Merlin’s magic was, had seen signs that it must be pretty incredible. He decided that once he’d finished his Chinese, he would take the time to explain that to the man.

Merlin was the first to leave, the others watching him go.

‘Whatever we see…’ Percival began, and where he stopped, Elyan took over.

‘We stick by him.’ A firm gaze on each one of their faces, while Gwaine continued to much. When they all turned to him for his answer, he shrugged.

‘I’m in, if I get more food.’ They knew he was joking, that he did care. Then, they all looked to Mordred, who had sat away from the group.

‘I won’t hurt him. You have my word.’ Gwaine didn’t need to point out that his word didn’t mean a lot, Lancelot did that for him, and Mordred looked away, guilty. It may have been unfair, to hate on him, but it was a recent betrayal for them. Merlin had been given time, to get over the backstabbing. They hadn't.

‘On Kara’s life.’ The name caused him hurt, it was clear for everyone in the room to see. A silence fell, before Arthur eventually bowed his head in acceptance, and Mordred let out a breath.

Eleanor, who had watched the whole thing, rolled her eyes.

‘This is why I like women.’

**

Gwaine flung the door open, stopped when he found Merlin sitting on the end of his bed, head in his hands. He quickly sat back, but it was too late, Gwaine had seen the hurt.

‘What’s wrong?’ He shut the door, glad that he’d decided to come, and took a seat beside the Warlock. Merlin’s hands were trembling slightly, so Gwaine took them in his own, marvelled at how soft they were. Once, in Camelot, he’d had the chance to hold Merlin’s hand. It was brief, and he would never forget the rough palms, so unlike the man in front.

When Merlin didn’t answer, Gwaine moved so he was kneeling on the floor, looking up into teary blue eyes. Still his Merlin, the one from Camelot, there was no denying that.

‘I don’t know if I’m strong enough.’ For a moment, he thought back to his dying speech. It haunted some of his memories, his dreams when he was deep in sleep. He hadn't thought he was brave enough, not having lived his life so recklessly chasing death.

‘You’re the strongest man I’ve ever met, Merlin. And I know that you may not believe in yourself, but you don’t need to.’ Gwaine bit his tongue, unsure of where the emotions were coming from, why his heart opened up so easily when it was Merlin he was speaking to.

‘Because I believe in you. All of us, we all put our faith in you.’ He hated seeing Merlin upset, hated the way the tears shimmered. He wished he could take all of that pain away, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to handle such a thing. That was what made Merlin so brilliant, so incredibly… pure.

‘And if I let you down?’ Mere whispered words, and Gwaine rose up, to rest his forehead against Merlin’s, to cup his cheeks and brush away the tears.

‘You won’t.’ Gwaine assured, and when Merlin’s fingers reached for his shirt, he willing went. The kiss was gentle, just like their first, soft and so very warm, and Gwaine could not quite believe he had the privilege to do such a thing.

When he pulled away, the tears had stopped, and back was the Merlin that he was so used to seeing.

‘You’re heavy.’ Merlin joked, and Gwaine realised he had pushed them both back onto the bed. A presumptuous move, but Merlin wasn’t hitting him for it. He snorted with laughed, propped himself up on one arm and used his free hand to trace down Merlin’s arm.

‘All muscle, I assure you.’ He joked back, and Merlin laughed. It was infectious, and soon Gwaine had to roll off to laugh, while Merlin clutched at his own stomach and attempted to stop the sound that bubbled past.

All of this was ridiculous. This entire thing, everything that had happened since resurrection, the fact that he could kiss Merlin freely, without fear. Merlin stopped laughing when he found Gwaine staring, cocked his head in the most adorable manner.

‘What is it?’

‘I had a conversation yesterday. With Eleanor.’ Merlin groaned, attempted to bury his head into the sheets, and Gwaine quickly resumed his position of being on top of the other man. Honestly, it rather suited him, if he did say so himself.

‘About a thing called bisexual.’ That made Merlin laugh, and Gwaine promised himself he would be the butt of every joke if it meant hearing that sound.

‘It’s being bisexual. Or called bisexuality.’ So, it was true. Intriguing, and good for him, for it meant he was not putting Merlin at risk by courting him. Was it still called that?

‘So I am a bisexuality?’ He knew the right phrase, of course, but Merlin’s smile was the reward from that sentence.

‘No, you’re more a bi-disaster.’ Gwaine pouted, while Merlin giggled like a child, before leaning up to kiss him. Gwaine accepted the apology, before realising he should probably be going to bed.

It was at the door, when Merlin pecked his cheek in a goodnight’s kiss, that Gwaine realised how much he liked Merlin. Maybe even bordering onto a different emotion, one he really didn’t want to risk…

‘Good night, Gwaine.’ That soft tone, the bright smile, Gwaine found himself smiling back. The door clicked shut, and Gwaine slumped.

‘You’ve got it bad, my friend.’ Instantly defensive, spinning to find Lancelot standing there, holding a glass of water. So, not snooping, just happening upon the two of them.

‘Not a word.’ Gwaine warned, and his friend nodded. He walked towards his room, before pausing, looking back in Gwaine’s direction.

‘The others may think that you’re joking around, being your usual self, but I can see that you care for him. I’m happy for you, you deserve that joy. You both do.’ Gwaine would have made a remark, something witty, but he could tell that Lancelot was thinking of Guinevere.

‘Thank you, my friend.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the big plot is coming, in the form of this spell. What do you think the Knights might see in Merlin's memories?


	16. Camelot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Brief explanation, the next chapters will be Merlin's memories, as introduced in this chapter. Because it's quite plot-thick, I'll be uploading two chapters a day while we're on the memories. 
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: suicidal thoughts from our poor baby Merlin

‘Are you all ready?’ They were each sat on a chair, in a circle so that Eleanor could get to each. In their hands, a glass of the most disgusting coloured liquid, that Merlin and Eleanor had brewed. It would reveal the secrets relating to the Magic that brought them back, and because of that, the Knights were scared.

‘Yes.’ Gwaine drained his first, gagged at the awful taste. The others followed, Merlin last, and then they waited.

He started muttering words, words that turned his eyes the colour of liquid fire, and Eleanor joined in. Although Gwaine could not tell what they were saying, he saw that Mordred understood a little, if his wide eyes were anything to go by.

A sleepy yawn escaped his lips, and he realised it was the spell. The others looked in a similar state, Percival having already fallen into slumber, while Arthur’s eyes were drooping. Lancelot stifled a yawn, before his head tipped to the side and he was gone.

Gwaine looked once more to Merlin, who seemed to be fighting to stay awake, and offered him what he hoped was a reassuring glance. It probably looked more like a loopy smile, he concluded, before letting his eyes drift shut.

**

_The boat drifted further, the flames creeping higher and higher, smoke climbing up into the sky. Merlin sat, quite unsure what to do, watching the spectacle quietly. He then turned his attention to the sword, Excalibur, which lay by his side. Somehow, he could not bring himself to get rid of it just yet. Instead, he picked up the blade, felt his head get turned back to the boat._

_He wasn’t crying, that had ended, the evidence drying on his cheeks. Excalibur turned to him, and he rested the weight against one of his wrists. It took very little effort, he had been sharpening this sword for so long, that it glided through his skin easily. Blood, staining the sandy bank, and Merlin lay back._

_Dying, alongside his King._

_**_

_Merlin sat up, the wound healed, and looked to Excalibur._

_‘Promise me you won’t try that again?’ The girl inquired, Freya, sitting in the water beside him._

_‘I can’t die.’ He concluded, ran a finger over the white scar that had been left by the blade. Freya looked away, out across the lake, where the boat no longer floated._

_‘He has to come back.’ Merlin stated, his voice trembling at the end, and Freya stood, gripping the sword and moving towards the water. He watched her go, and was left alone on the embankment._

_‘Please.’ He whispered, to nobody in particular, dropping to his knees and letting out a broken sob. When nobody answered his prayer, he stood, determination fuelling him._

_**_

_‘Morgana Pendragon, High Priestess of the Old Religion, I give you peace.’ Her body lit up, and Merlin watched the flames cackle, allowed himself to shed a tear for his friend. Lost, to the battle of Magic, to the very thing he should have protected her against._

_‘Forgive me, Morgana. I never thought… I thought it would change.’ He waited, until the flames had done their job, and the only memory of the woman lived on in his mind. He turned, heading in the direction of the battlefield._

_**_

_‘Rest well, Mordred, Druid of the Old Religion.’ He closed the boy’s eyes, before stepping back. So much fire, so many people he had lost._

_The Dragon had returned. Merlin turned to it, stared up at the beast and felt his tears begin to fall once more._

_‘You killed him. You… you killed Arthur.’ Next came the screaming, and the helpless pleas for the Dragon to do something, but Aithusa just bowed his head, letting out a small cry of his own. The Warlock eventually sunk against the creature, held it tightly and soothed it._

_‘I’m so sorry, Aithusa. I… This is my fault. I was the one who should have kept you safe. Maybe then… maybe Arthur might be alive.’ The Dragon tucked its damaged tail around him, and the two creatures watched the smoke take over the horizon._

_**_

_‘No, no, god no.’ Merlin’s knees hit the dirt, hands grabbing at the armour, tilting Gwaine’s neck until he could reach for the pulse. The pulse that didn’t exist. He stayed, praying, pushing every ounce of Magic he had into the body in front, but nothing happened._

_‘Please…’ He cradled his face, brushed away the dark locks of hair, waited for the witty remark to come. But Gwaine did not say anything, and Merlin realised that, right then, he had nobody left. Nobody at all, he was quite alone, and it was all his own fault._

_‘Gwaine… I can’t do this alone, please.’ He was begging, but it did not matter, Merlin would have pleaded for any of their lives. He slowly released the Knight, looked across to Percival, and went to check for a pulse._

_‘Some protector I am.’ He joked to himself, the words breaking everything he had left, and the Warlock looked to the sky. It darkened, the clouds forming and the thunder rumbling, and Merlin let the rain slam down._

_He couldn’t wash away the dead, though, and eventually had to burn them too._

_**_

_Merlin was in the Cave, when it happened. Solitude, the place he had been hiding since he’d failed, too ashamed to return to Camelot. He could not face the pregnant Queen, could not tell her how he had failed her husband. It was night, when it began. The ache in his chest, the pain that radiated out, and he bent over and gasped. It felt like a sword, driven through his side, pain he hadn't felt since he’d killed himself at the lake._

_‘Leon…’ The Knight of Camelot, the one left. He ran, stumbled blindly in the dark, hurrying to where the pain came from. Through the trees, the moon making shadows creep across the Kingdom. He moved faster, the pain in his abdomen growing, until he saw it._

_The creature was dead, the Knights of Camelot all on their knees, swords driven into the ground, looking to the fallen Knight._

_He’d let Leon die. Every Knight of the Round Table, dead because of him. The Warlock bit down on his hand, hard enough to draw blood, to stop the sound he made as they carried their fallen comrade home. The final one, and Merlin couldn’t take it anymore. He had to run._


	17. Camelot- Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter, as promised!

_She looked different, his Gwen. She as propped up, a plethora of sheets over her, the finest silks in the Kingdom. Merlin moved to her side, watched her eyes light up in recognition._

_‘Merlin.’ She breathed out, took his hand in hers. Unlike his own, her hand showed the sign of aging, wrinkles that had not previously been there creasing the smooth skin._

_‘Oh Merlin, I missed you.’ He’d missed her too, just as much, but the words would not come._

_‘I was so alone.’ Behind her, the boy, no, man shifted. Merlin ignored him for now, instead sat beside Guinevere, traced her hand softly._

_‘You did so well, Gwen. Such a brave Queen.’ What else was he to say, to the woman he abandoned. Gwen chuckled, a weak sound that ended in a cough, and she looked up to him. Her hand reached out, cupped his cheek and stroked away a stray tear._

_‘My closest friend, Merlin. Let me see.’ He muttered some words, so his eyes glowed golden, and he could see them reflected in her own eyes._

_‘I forgive you, always.’ She promised, settled back onto the bed. Merlin brushed his fingers through her hair, leant down to press a kiss to her forehead._

_‘I’m so sorry, Gwen, I wish…’ He froze, felt the breath against his cheek still, sat back up and stared down at his friend. Gone, peaceful, with a Kingdom that loved her._

_‘You’re him. The servant that saved my father.’ He had to turn, to see the now-King, Thomas, staring at him. He was crying, tears that made him look so much younger, and Merlin regretted coming._

_‘I’m sorry that I could not do more.’ The words tasted sour against his tongue, like lies. Thomas, the blond-haired blue-eyed King, that looked so much like Arthur, offered a small smile._

_‘Stay? For my coronation, please.’_

_**_

_‘He’d be proud of you.’ Merlin assured, dressing the future King. Thomas was trembling slightly, as Merlin fastened the ceremonial robes. The Prince turned to face him, nerves flicking on his face, eyes worried._

_‘I don’t know if I’m ready to be King.’ He was Arthur, through and through. Merlin placed a hand on his shoulder, forced himself to look into the eyes that tore through his soul._

_‘You’re going to be the best King Camelot has ever seen, Sire. Believe in yourself, and you can do anything.’ Arthur had once believed that he could not be King, and Merlin had told him at every opportunity that he was the man that would unite Albion. Now, his son was in the same situation, and Merlin was determined to do the same._

_‘How can I live up to such a legacy? They say my father was the bravest man to walk the earth.’ Merlin looked away, dropped the hand, and Thomas caught it._

_‘Forgive me, I did not mean…’_

_‘He was. And if he was here, he’d tell you that you’re ready for this.’ Thomas gave a brief nod, before looking at his reflection, to the robes he was wearing._

_‘Will you walk by my side? It would be an honour, to spend time with the man that saved my father.’ Not enough, Merlin thought. But still, he walked beside the new King of Camelot, watched the crown be placed upon his head, like he had watched Arthur become King._

_**_

_He walked into Arthur’s chambers, now Thomas’, looked around the room that he new so well. It brought back so many memories, and as he moved to the bed, he felt the energy leave him. He sunk down, fought back tears._

_‘I brought it.’ Freya appeared, holding Excalibur, just like Merlin had asked. He took the sword from her, placed it down on the bed._

_‘An honourable gesture.’ She spoke softly, to calm him, but nothing would do that. He was too hurt, too broken._

_‘What would have been honourable, was saving his father.’ Merlin snapped to the Lady, who sighed, before vanishing. Merlin glanced once more to the sword, before slipping from the room._

_**_

_‘Wait!’ Merlin froze, turned slowly to the new-physician, a man around his own age, with a frown on his face._

_‘You’re him, aren’t you?’ It had been foolish, to come to the home. To see the place where he and Gaius had last spoken, last embraced. His father-figure was long dead, alone, because of him._

_‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Merlin stated, went to leave when a hand closed around his arm. The man was quick to pull it back, offering out a letter, sealed. He then turned, rushed to a shelf, pulling off a book that Merlin recognised all too well. His spell-book._

_‘He thought you’d come back. Told me to give you this, when you did.’ He collected both items, thanked the man, and ran before the tears could spill._

_**_

**_My boy,_ **

**_I knew you’d come back to Camelot, eventually. Wherever you are, I hope that you’re well. I thought I would leave you this, to remind you that I understand. Nobody could have done a better job than you, Merlin. It was an honour to raise you, to teach you all that I could, and I only wish I could have offered more comfort in the final moments._ **

**_I’m proud to call you my son, Merlin._ **

**_From an old man, worrying unnecessarily._ **

_**_

_‘It won’t work.’ Freya warned, as Merlin performed yet another spell. Time after time, hurling them at the water and waiting for the King to rise, yet he would not._

_‘He has to come back.’ Merlin stated, snapped the words in her direction, and the Lady of the Lake sighed._

_‘Merlin, Arthur is at rest. Maybe… maybe you should find peace.’ It hadn't been the first time she had suggested such a thing, but did she not understand? He stopped the spell, closed the book and sat down where he had the day he’d burnt Arthur’s body, let his fingers dig into the sand._

_‘I cannot. How can I, when I lost everything?’ He hadn't meant to cry, it happened far too often when he thought of Camelot. Freya came closer, until she was by his side, and wrapped her arms around him. He let the embrace continue, hoping it would help, but it did nothing to soothe his upset._

_‘If you have faith…’_

_‘Always. They can’t… they can’t take them from me, and not let me join them.’ They, being the Old Religion, the creatures of Magic. Freya held him, until the sun set and Merlin had no more tears to cry._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think of the memories of Camelot?


	18. 1203

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1203- Merlin's memories from the year

**_1203_ **

_‘Are you sure about this?’ It was a far cry from the Kingdom of Camelot, not a tree in sight. The sandy desert stretched out as far as the eye could see, but Merlin’s attention was focused on the camp in front. Camels tied to the side, tents that kept the sun of the people’s backs. It was night-time now, and Merlin had approached under the cover of darkness._

_Aithusa stayed back, Merlin giving him the order to flee if necessary. The Dragon shook his head, determined to protect Merlin, but the Warlock was not finished. In his hand, Excalibur, Arthur’s sword. He had reclaimed it, upon the death of Thomas, and now stood, ready to use it in the name of Camelot. In the name of the fallen Kingdom, which he could not bring himself to forget._

_He turned to his companion, to Freya, who was only solid because of the spell he had muttered. She was dressed in her normal white gown, looking up at him, then to the sword in his hand._

_‘If it can bring Arthur back…’_

_‘Merlin, it’s been three-hundred years. Do you… are you sure?’ The repeated question, showing just how much she doubted that he was alright. He knew that the obsession was driving him into the ground, knew why she was so fearful. This wasn’t him, he didn’t kill, but right now, he saw no other option. He would give them a chance to surrender, though._

_‘I need to know, Freya.’ She bowed her head, took a step back to Aithusa’s side. Merlin briefly spared her a glance, before walking towards the tents._

_The moment he was spotted, the alarm went up. People gathering swords, ready to fight. He had not wanted this, did not want to harm them, but they had just discovered something that he had been tracking ever since he thought it might help him bring Arthur back._

_They were nothing more than thieves, an army of around a hundred, gathered to attack. They moved towards him, shouting and cursing in a language he could not understand, not yet. Raising Excalibur, he called forth flames of orange and blue, that raced down the sword as he got ready to fight._

_It was, to an outsider, a man that looked like he knew how to wield a sword. When the first man reached him, Merlin ducked the blow and kicked sand up, a dirty trick, but needed. He called for his Magic, to support him if needed, and fought._

_At least he gave them the honour of a fair fight. The issue was that he could not die, so when the blades struck him, he merely shook off the worry. Instead, he drove the burning blade through those who stood between him and the item they had taken, killing them with ease._

_Once the last one had fallen, Merlin lowered the blade, dimmed the fire that hovered around it. Drenched in blood, the metallic taste in his mouth, death on a scale that he had not seen in a while. He looked across, to a young soldier, who was standing at the entrance to the last tent. In his hand, a sword, trembling in his grip._

_‘Magic.’ He exclaimed, in a tongue that he could understand. Merlin studied the boy, for that was what he was, he could be no older than twenty. Merlin took a step closer, let Excalibur fall to his side, shut off the flames entirely._

_‘I will not hurt you, should you stand aside.’ The boy did exactly that, moved to the side so quickly that he almost stumbled, and Merlin gave him a quick glance, before heading for the tent._

_The sweltering heat was worse in the tent, the stench of humans, of sweat and blood and war. And, on the make-shift desk that was lined with maps and papers, the thing that he had travelled half-way across the world._

_Arthur’s coronation Crown, the beautiful craftsmanship that he had last seen around a hundred years ago. It had travelled so far, seen so much, and as he picked it up, a weight lifted from his chest._

_Until he spotted the hole. Where the jewel should have sat, a small stone that Merlin remembered polishing, a gap. The Crown had been broken, a piece of it was missing, and the spell would not work while it was not whole._

_He stepped back out of the tent, anger beginning to build, looked to the boy that had not fled._

_‘Where is the stone?’ He snarled, tempted to reach for Excalibur. The boy looked to the crown in his hand, then to Merlin, eyes wide in fear._

_‘It was not there when we found it, my Lord, forgive me.’ It stopped him in his tracks. Momentarily, he had thought to hurt the boy, to extract the information from him. Just the fact that it crossed his mind, made him feel sick. It was not the boy’s fault, and Freya was right. This was beginning to drive him insane, the constant need to fill the ache in his chest._

_‘I will not hurt you. I… I lost my temper. What’s your name?’ He did not really feel the need to ask such a thing, but then again, he had killed everyone the boy had. It was the least he could do._

_‘Jasper, sire.’ Merlin looked him over, before summoning a small pouch of gold. The boy looked shocked, but accepted the bag when Merlin threw it across._

_He was walking back towards Freya and Aithusa when the boy spoke up._

_‘My Lord!’ Merlin turned, and the boy, who had dropped his sword, turned his palm to the sky. In place of the weapon, a tiny spark formed, the colour of the summer’s sky. Merlin watched, mostly intrigued, as the spark grew._

_‘You’re a sorcerer.’ An obvious conclusion, Merlin had not met one in a while, none that gave up their gift so willingly. The boy was naïve._

_‘I am, like you!’ Like him, an immortal Warlock who could not die, burdened with a task he had failed to complete._

_‘We are not alike. Magic is dangerous.’ And with that, Merlin left the sorcerer, returned back to the only creatures who could understand his pain._

_**_

_‘It’s beautiful.’ Freya admitted, while Merlin looked proudly at his work. A crypt, for each of the Knights and their King. He had wondered about including Morgana or Mordred, especially the latter, but he had not got the connection call upon their memories, to lay their soul to rest, united._

_‘He’d have liked it.’_

_‘I’m not giving up hope.’ Merlin warned, and Freya chuckled, a warmth in her tone that Merlin found himself smiling back at._

_‘Of course you aren’t. Two sides of the same coin.’ That was the truth, Merlin thought with a grin, looking back to Arthur’s stone._

_‘Even if it kills me.’ He promised the empty space, while Freya called his name, and he ran off after her. As soon as he stepped out, the torches flared to life, and would not die until he gave up hope._


	19. 1453

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As promised, the second chapter of memories

**_1453_ **

_This was one of those times, when Merlin really shouldn’t be getting involved. Despite the promise to step back from dangerous situations, to not get involved if he thought that it would be too risky, he still found himself inside the city walls. It was a siege, they had been blockading the city of Constantinople for a while now, before breaking through the walls. There were so many people screaming, so many people about to die._

_He walked over the rubble, the spell keeping him from being seen. Opting to look slightly older, not quite at the level he had used back in Camelot, just enough to be unrecognisable. Unfortunately for him, the boy that he had left behind over a hundred years ago had spread tales of his great skills, of his ability to talk to a “white-winged beast”._

_The city smelt of blood, and it washed down the stones that he stepped over. Sounds of swords hitting, of people screaming, they made him feel sick. But, then again, he could do nothing to prevent the misery that was coming. Dead bodies lay where they had fallen, killed by the soldiers that had patiently waited for them to starve._

_He approached the beautiful building, one that was fought over constantly, the religion of it currently in the hands of Christianity. He did not believe that would last long, slaughter happened every time people thought themselves wiser than others, and that was basically all that humans knew how to do._

_Reaching the doors, he placed a hand against them, muttered a selection of words to grant him access. Inside, the beautiful artwork and heritage of different cultures combining, a breath-taking sight. Merlin let himself soak in the feeling, trying to push away the screams that he could still here. Even in this room, a sanctuary for religion, there was blood smeared on the surfaces._

_A fallen body, slouched on the stone steps that he approached. It looked to be a man in the midst of prayer, slain where he prayed to his God. Merlin crouched down, placed a hand on the man’s shoulder and whispered a brief prayer, to comfort his soul in the next life._

_He had no care for the altar, that was not what he was here for, but he was still gentle as he pried up the slab. Underneath, wrapped in a thick cloth, was the item he had come in search for. He unwrapped it gently, reached for the book. The cover may have been plain, boring, but as he lifted the first page, his eyes caught the main piece._

_Jasper had become a very famous sorcerer, collecting pieces of work and distributing them to those that might make use of them. But, one of his most famous finds was the work on Arthurian legends, and more importantly, Emrys._

_The replica picture had been painted onto the first page, an image of the blond-haired Prince, with Excalibur in hand. By his side, the dark image of the Witch Morgana, and on the other…_

_Him. Or what was supposed to be him, an old man with a hand that was surrounded with fire, of golden eyes. Underneath, the labels._

_Arthur. Morgana. Emrys._

_He studied the image for a moment, before shutting the book and standing up, turning to leave. A couple of warriors rushed past him, but they could not see anything except the hole he had left, so they paid him no mind._

_The city itself would have been just as beautiful, he concluded, if it had not been under siege. The Ottoman’s, the people that would make Constantinople fall, would rebuild it in time, he was sure. He had seen enough of the human’s presence on Earth to pick up some patterns, to identify what they did. This may look like an ending, but it was not._

_It was a new beginning._

_Merlin was almost free when he heard a voice, one that broke free from the screams._

_‘Help me! Please, please help me!’ A woman’s pleas, Merlin briefly turned. She was young, had been dragged from her house while the man that was presumably her father was killed. But she was staring right at him, something that should have been impossible. He looked behind him, but the space was empty, and his gaze returned to the girl._

_‘Please!’ One of the soldiers gripped her, ripping at her dress, and Merlin made a decision. His hand flicked, the one not holding the book, and the three men around her went flying back. He heard the crack as they hit a wall, they would be dying, if not dead._

_‘You can see me.’ She was crying, straightening her dress and scrubbing at the tears on her face, looking up at him with hope._

_‘Are you an Angel?’ How… preposterous. He realised that, for a woman of religion, who had just seen unexplainable things, it might be a logical conclusion. The poor child looked terrified, yet awed, and Merlin looked around the fallen city. When he looked back to her, to her bright eyes and hopeful features, he screwed his own rule about not getting involved._

_‘Quickly.’ She hurried to his side, sparing one last look at the man that had been killed. Merlin wrapped the cloak around her, unsure of whether to extend the spell to her as well, or if it would even work._

_**_

_‘Thank you. For everything.’ Avalynn, that was the girl he had saved, and was now leaving. He had saved her from the falling city, brought her back to his temporary residence in France. She had been quick to pick up the language, spoke it with an accent that many a man at court had found desirable. She’d do well for herself, could marry a wealthy man, never have to worry a day in her life._

_‘You need not thank me.’ It was the first time he had helped another, saved them and kept them close. Trusted them. And now came the goodbye, which Merlin was surprised to find was going to be easier than he expected. Perhaps it was because he knew that only pain would come of her staying, or even because she needed to go, to explore the Magic that she had, the gift that had meant she could see him all those months ago._

_‘You deserve the praise, my Lord. Every time I perform a spell, it shall be in your name.’ He watched her go, knowing that, strangely, it would not be the last time he saw Avalynn, or heard of her Magic._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Merlin is still determined to bring back the King


	20. 1501

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1501, some more memories :/

**_1501_ **

_‘I hope you can forgive me, Arthur.’ Merlin looked around the Crypt, before letting out a nervous laugh. He shook his head fondly, moved across to the tomb, and opened up the stone slab with a wave of his hand. His enchantment meant that this was the place of rest, the place where his soul remained, even if his body had been burnt._

_Carefully, he lifted Excalibur into the coffin, placed it where Arthur would have held it. Then, he replaced the lid, sealed it and stepped back._

_‘I can’t keep searching for answers that don’t exist.’ Merlin began, looking across to the Knights’ swords, the ones he had placed with such care. He then looked to the book, the one that held nothing but false promises, and lifted the slab at the base of the tomb. It would remain preserved, a memory of the efforts he spent to try and get him back._

_‘You aren’t coming back. None of you are.’ Like he was having a conversation with them, he glanced around the room. For the first time, he found that he could smile without it hurting, the ache in his chest lessening enough to breathe. And it felt good, for his lungs to expand, for the air to rush in. His head was clear, his Magic humming contently._

_‘It doesn’t mean I don’t want you here. It just means… it means I have to move on. The world is changing, and I can’t stay hung up in the past.’ Merlin looked awkwardly to the ground, then back to the tomb._

_‘I think you’d want me to be happy. At least for a little bit. Probably tell me to get back to work after that.’ He chuckled at his own memories, before turning to the door, moving away from the Crypt. Just one last look back, he permitted himself that._

_‘I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.’_

_**_

_Merlin soothed the great beast, while Aithusa and Freya stood at a respectable distance. Kilgharrah breathed out slowly, the pain evident in the way he shifted, but his head remained close enough for Merlin to keep a hand against him, to try and alleviate the pain._

_‘You’ve lived a long time, Kilgharrah. It has been an honour.’ It was a sad moment, to say goodbye to another memory of Camelot. The Dragon’s golden eyes focused on him, a brief look of humour crossing his face._

_‘All of it?’ He thought back to his youthful days in Camelot, to his time where he served Arthur, to the happiest days of his life._

_‘Most of it.’ He amended, a knowing smile on his face as he settled against the oldest creature alive._

_‘Young warlock, I ask that you forgive me. I should have done more, to save the Pendragon.’ Merlin tensed at the name slightly, a mere wince, and responded with a frown._

_‘You did what you could. You had no obligation to save the son of the man that hunted your kind to near extinction.’ Kilgharrah gave a pained breath once more, and Merlin rushed to give across magic, to ease the pain of his kin. It was to be a fitting end, a bright, sunny day, the sky clear._

_‘You’re almost as you were, before you lost your other half.’ The Dragon spoke, and Merlin hummed in agreement._

_‘When you said two sides of the same coin, I did not think it so true.’ The statement hung in the air for a while, before Kilgharrah let his eyes flick shut._

_When she began to sing, Merlin knew it was time. Freya’s voice filled the space, and pretty quickly, Aithusa was adding to it with a low sound, a grumble that suited Freya’s high pitch, the two offering farewell to their companion._

_Merlin let his Magic free, let it spread out across the valley. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, tried not to think of why he suddenly had to prop himself up, rather than leaning against Kilgharrah. Dragons did not stay when they died, he had known that for a while, but it was still a surprise to open his eyes to the empty field._

_No, not empty. It was covered in flowers, of all different colours, spreading as far as he could see. Freya continued to sing, Aithusa let out a sound in recognition of his fallen kin, and Merlin crouched down to briefly touch the ground._

_‘May you rest well, my old friend.’_

_The moment stretched, and when Merlin was ready to let go, he turned back to his companions. Freya was the first to greet him, a bright smile and her hand offered out. Aithusa nuzzled against him, the Dragon was getting rather big now, around half the size of Kilgharrah._

_‘You’re the oldest now.’ Freya pointed out, and Merlin chuckled._

_‘And the wisest.’ He supplied, Aithusa nodding his head in agreement, while Freya pouted. She did not argue though, and the trio left the field to bloom._


	21. 1533-36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's healing, or so he thought

**_1533-36_ **

_‘Introducing the ambassador from the continent, your Majesty. Of the reformed faith, Lord Merlin Pendragon.’ Merlin bowed low to the King that sat upon the throne, marvelling at how quickly he was beginning to change._

_‘Your Majesty, an honour.’ He kept his head bowed, not daring to risk the temper of the man that was quite arguably the easiest to provoke. Yet today, he was in a good mood. His daughter had just been born, Princess Elizabeth, and she was quite the looker, according to royal gossips._

_‘It’s a delight to have you, Pendragon. Welcome to the Court!’ He rose to look at the King, Henry VIII, wondering just how far this man would go to secure his throne. Still, he did love Court, the bustling vibes, the food. It was a good thing he was here, it would be a place that he could settle for a while._

_**_

_‘You know, it is rather too hot to be wearing so many layers.’ George Boleyn, the charming, yet insatiable brother of the Queen, stated, eyeing him up like a piece of meat. Had Merlin not steadily become used to the charm of all three Boleyns, he might have run. Instead, he laughed, turned his smile to the man._

_‘Is that an excuse to get me undressed?’ It was the first romantic connection he was pursuing, and a dangerous one at that. It had gone no further than brief smiles, occasional notes, a brief kiss on the cheek, but it felt… real. That was what Merlin had been missing in his life, since he had lost the purpose of bringing back Arthur._

_Taking the surname had been an act of… remembrance. It was not that he did not miss his friends, he did, but it was time that he lived a little. And, what better place to star than the summer of 1537, where he was friends with the most powerful people in the country? Already, his estates had grown beyond belief, and he was thrilled to have the new company of the Boleyn siblings._

_‘Perhaps. Or maybe, I’d prefer to keep that behind closed doors.’ George said, a mischievous smile lighting his face._

_‘Who says I am interested in such a thing?’ He shot back, before George laughed. Merlin couldn’t help but smile back, looking across to where the Queen was seated, hand on her stomach, tenderly cradling the new child that was to come._

_Beside her, her sister, Mary, another of Merlin’s close friends. She shared a name with King Henry’s first daughter, the Princess, sorry, Lady Mary. The woman he helped in secret, for fear that if he did so in public, he might be thrown in the tower._

_**_

_‘Who was he?’ George inquired softly, while they sat in front of the fire. Merlin’s mind flicked back to Gwaine, of course it did, and he shoved it down quickly. Stamped on the thought before he could even consider it._

_‘Someone I lost.’ Merlin admitted, and the man ran his fingers through Merlin’s hair, tilted his chin._

_‘Did he look like me?’ George, with blond hair like Mary’s, and green eyes._

_‘Quite the opposite.’_

_‘Good.’ George stated, leant in to briefly kiss him. When he pulled back, Merlin offered a shy smile, quite unsure of how to proceed._

_‘Is that all?’ He asked, and George laughed._

_‘For now, yes. I must see to my sister, her Majesty is quite impatient.’_

_**_

_Merlin gripped Mary’s hand tightly, so tightly that he feared it hurt her. But they both needed the support right now, the grounding, for it was the only thing that was keeping them sane._

_He said nothing, as his almost-lover was brought up to the stand above the crowd, where they accused him of unspeakable acts with his own sister. They had been close, yes, but that was nothing compared to what the King had accused._

_He waited for the pardon to come, for George to be released, banished. But the axe came down, and his head went rolling, and all Merlin could do was hold onto his sister and pray the nightmare was over._

_**_

_‘I’m sorry.’ Princess Mary whispered, looking at him with pity. She was good at keeping secrets, and even for a woman that was of religious beliefs, she did not belittle him for his choice of suitor. Nor did she say anything about the execution of Anne, which had happened hours before._

_‘The King will send you away. He has another, the Lady Jane.’ Merlin warned, and the Princess nodded sadly._

_‘I have something for you.’ Mary rose, walked to her dresser quickly._

_‘The woman that gave it to me, she was from France. An older Lady, named Avalynn. Such a strange name.’ Merlin sucked in breath, but Mary did not notice._

_She turned, and in her hand, she held it._

_The missing stone of the Crown of Camelot, Arthur’s stone._

_‘Mary, I cannot…’_

_‘Please, for me. We are friends, after all.’ He took it, let her pull him in for a brief hug, before he had to leave. Quickly, before the King decided his head should roll._

_Friends, with a Princess. It was almost like old times._

_**_

_‘Did I not tell you that I would continue in your name?’ Avalynn stated, staring out across the English countryside. She had come with the new Queen, not Jane, not even the second Anne, or the young Catherine. No, she came with Kathryn Parr, the sixth wife, and by this point, Avalynn was very old. Or at least, she was showing her years._

_She had not asked while Merlin was still young. He had to age slightly, to keep the King from being suspicious, but apart from that, he had managed to keep relatively youthful._

_‘The Stone doesn’t work.’ Merlin admitted, having rushed to his home to try the spell. Avalynn shrugged, took a sip from the wine in front of her. She had done well for herself, Merlin was glad that he had saved her. She suited the life well._

_‘I am sorry it could not bring your friends back. But one day, your hard-work will pay off.’ Merlin hoped so. He was fed up of losing people. Trying to love again, it had ended with their heads on the floor, and Mary had run off to the country to live far away from the pain of court. Although, her daughter was at Court, the illegitimate daughter of the King, not that anybody dared say it aloud._

_‘Hopefully. I’m just so tired of being lonely.’ Avalynn took his hand, squeezed it tightly._

_‘You have me.’_

_**_

_Losing both Avalynn, and Mary Boleyn, now Stafford, in one year had been hard. He no longer could go to Court, it was too tense and the political situation was rapidly getting worse, so he had gone back to his estates._

_To where he could place the stone, back in the crown of Camelot. He placed it in the Crypt, along with the other treasures that could not quite bring back the life he had lost._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple more memories after this!  
> Does anyone have any theories on who brought back the Knights? It might become clearer after the next couple of chapters!


	22. 1843

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forwards to 1843!

**_1843_ **

_‘Her Majesty, Queen Victoria.’ Merlin clapped along with everyone else, even if he had long tired of this charade. Kings and Queens, the entire political debate, it was worthless. The Queen was young, very young, when she took the throne. Now, she was settling to the Crown, and Merlin could actually hope that the country would remain stable for a while._

_‘Lord Leodegrance?’ Merlin turned, long-used to the surname that had been Gwen and Elyan’s, smiling up at one of the Ladies of court. He took her hand, bowed enough to kiss the ends, before straightening. He hated suits, but had pulled one out for occasion. In truth, he was not here to see the Queen, nor the people of Court._

_He was here for one important person, and that was a young boy, a butler, standing on the far side of the room. Magic, that was his reason for being here, but he could not just walk across and state such a thing._

_So, Merlin danced. He bowed to each Lady that arrived, tried to remember their names while keeping an eye on the boy in the corner. Once the dancing had ended, he had an excuse to move across, taking a glass from the tray the boy was holding._

_‘What’s your name?’ Merlin inquired, looking out across the floor of people._

_‘Adam, Sir.’ He squeaked, unsure, and Merlin briefly glanced down. So much potential, Merlin had to help him, to get him out of this place. For after this one day of work, the boy would be back to the factories._

_‘Adam. Do you live with your family, my boy?’ People milled around, the Queen herself laughing at something one of the courtiers had said. Merlin regarded it with a calmness, she was less likely to start randomly accusing people of things like the Tudor and Stuart Kings and Queens._

_‘My mam’ and my papa, my three sisters too Sir.’ A scruffy thing, could do with a haircut, and a good long bath. Merlin took the paper from his jacket, handed it across discreetly._

_‘If you are looking for a home, somewhere to keep your gift safe, I can help.’ That was all he offered, quickly moved away._

_**_

_It was late when the doorbell rang. The maid offered to get it, but Merlin was already up. He walked to the door, unlocked the bolt and swung it open. On the steps, the young boy, Adam. He was covered in soot, and had a rather large bruise on his cheekbone, which Merlin made a note of._

_‘Sir?’_

_‘Come in, Adam.’ He pulled the boy in, gently, and shut the door. Already, his maid had arrived in the entrance, was looking at the boy with horror._

_‘Maia, would you fetch a bath for the boy? And some food, if possible.’_

_‘Right away, Sir. Come this way.’ She offered out her hand, and Adam was quick to accept it, following her away into the house. Merlin walked to his study, regarded the files on the children with Magic he had managed to save so far._

_Adam was the latest, from a bloodline that Avalynn had been a part of. Each time he found a relative, he tried to stay away, but found himself drawn back to saving them. It was a habit, he had to help them, Magic had to be preserved._

_‘So, Magic runs in bloodlines.’ He said aloud, to the empty space. Maternal, he noted, which was strange considering his Dragonlord heritage came from his father. And his Mother had no Magic, that was clear._

_He had spent a long time consulting different people, druids, sorcerers, anyone that had an opinion on the matter._

_Still, he dipped the quill into ink and wrote Adam’s name at the top of a new sheet, ready to start a new file._

_**_

_‘It appears quite bizarre.’ He informed his maid, Maia, who studied the results just as he did._

_‘They’ve been passing down magic? Is that even possible?’ Normally, he would have said no. But now, staring at the notes and recordings he had been making for hundreds of years, ever since her first set eyes on Avalynn, it was hard to argue._

_‘What could it mean?’_

_‘A powerful sorcerer.’ He concluded, looking across to Adam. Not yet, the Magic wasn’t quite there, but there was potential._

_‘The bloodline continues to be an infinitely useful tool in understanding Magic.’ Merlin added, while the boy laughed and played with the other children._

_‘To what use?’ Maia inquired, ever diligent, ever learning. She was a good pupil, despite her low-energy Magic, determined to make the use of what she had._

_‘Protection. We have to keep them safe, from those who could corrupt it.’_

_**_

_‘She’s beautiful.’ Merlin muttered, as Adam passed across his new-born daughter. Truly, she had the prettiest eyes, and Merlin smiled down as she blinked up owlishly._

_‘I named her Merlina, to honour you.’ Merlin should have expected such a thing, but he did not, even though it was not the first time a child had been named after him. Still, he teared up slightly, let his finger be clutched at by the tiny infant._

_‘The honour is all mine, I assure you.’_

_**_

_‘It must be a secret, one that you will guard with your life!’ She looked so anxious, so afraid, and Merlin had made a promise. To protect his namesake, to keep her safe, no matter what. This was his chance, to honour Adam’s legacy and protect his only heir, the young woman that was now so afraid._

_‘I will guard it, I swear. You have my word.’ She reached forwards to embrace him quickly, before bundling up the small child that squirmed in her arms._

_‘Thank you, Uncle, for everything.’ And with that, his namesake ran off into the night, desperate to hide the child that she could no longer protect._


	23. 1916-18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After this chapter, there is only one more memory to go!!

**_1916-18_ **

_Merlin liked the forest, loved the thick snow and the beautiful way that the sun crept through. He wasn’t here for the scenery, however. He was here because of the bloodline that he had sworn to protect, that drove him closer to a place where he could tell a bad thing was going to happen. Something that would be written in the history books, a tale that might hurt him._

_When he first spotted the family, he was surprised. They looked so ordinary, if you took away the bright jewels and the guards that were keeping an eye on them. His gaze strayed over them, none of them showing any signs, until he spotted a girl, the youngest, crouched in the dirt. She was playing with some toys, what appeared to be a soldier and a car, and he watched in amusement as she drove them around in the dirt._

_He could see her Magic, even before she accidentally broke one of the wheels from her car. A quick glance around, to check that her Mother and siblings were not watching, and she muttered a word under her breath. The wheel re-joined to the rest of the car, and the girl continued onwards._

_She was the only one with Magic, that much he could tell. It had come from the maternal line, from the woman that was watching over her children. He could see the faint stress-lines on her skin, the worry that was eating away at her. He then looked back to the girl, and decided that now was not quite the time._

_**_

_‘What is your name, my dear?’ He knew, of course, who she was. Still, the small girl was thoroughly intrigued by him, like she could see his Magic._

_‘Anastasia.’ She answered, biting her lip hesitantly before looking up to the sky. It was snowing, just a gentle flurry, and Merlin opened up his palm and formed a snowflake on it. The girl’s eyes widened, before she hesitantly reached out._

_‘A lovely name, for such a talented girl.’ He hinted that he knew the secret, and, with a quick glance like the first time he had seen her perform Magic, her eyes lit up as she formed her own snowflake._

_‘Can you teach me more?’ He looked to her, wondered if she had any idea what was going on in the world around her. Probably not, poor girl._

_‘Perhaps. I have to go now, Anastasia, but I’ll be back.’_

_**_

_The girl was a mere seventeen, that was all he could think of as he ran. He hoped he had done enough, that it would be enough, ran through the woodlands and found the cars parked at the back of the building. Trucks, ready to get rid of the evidence._

_The gunfire rippled out, and, even though it was muffled, he could hear the screaming. Merlin froze, felt everything in him go still, as he waited for the moment of truth._

_The men appeared, the people that had been holding them captive. Slowly, as the first of the men turned to face Merlin, the Warlock released the breath he had been holding. In the cover of the early July morning, the man dragged two children across from the building._

_‘We could not kill him.’ Merlin had paid a lot of money to keep Anastasia Romanov safe, to save her before the fate that her family would ultimately meet caught her up. Behind the girl, who was shaking like a leaf with wide eyes, blank and unseeing, was the boy. Alexei._

_‘Thank you.’ Merlin muttered, in a language that wasn’t his own. The man shoved them across quickly, the gun at his side the proof of what had happened down in the basement._

_‘If anyone ever hears of this…’ He warned, and the Warlock shook his head._

_‘My own children.’ Merlin promised, gripping Anastasia’s hand, then looking to the boy. He was shaking, the adrenaline crashing through him, the poor boy not yet fourteen. Merlin crouched down, looked between them._

_‘We must run, flee, before they change their minds.’ Alexei, despite his illness, momentarily looked strong. He gripped his sister’s hand, and Merlin ran away with the two Romanov children, deep into the forest._

_**_

_‘Impossible.’ He muttered, watching the two children share Magic freely between each other, a ball of light forming between them. Alexei had no Magic, he had been sure, but now they freely crafted together, power lighting up the room._

_The ability to create life, something that he thought only he could do, staring at the dead bird that they had found in the garden. Slowly, the creature regained its life, fluttered off sharply. Anna laughed, a bright, happy sound, while her brother clapped his hands in excitement. Three years, he had kept them safe, Anna and Alex Leodegrance, his own children._

_If they had such power together, if the siblings could fuel each other, then how many siblings had he let slip through his protection?_

_‘Father?’ Alex called to him, and Merlin turned. The boy was holding a flower, created of his own Magic, something that should have been impossible. Merlin took it, a bright smile on his face._

_‘Incredible work, both of you.’ His children beamed, before racing back down the meadow, while Merlin watched them run._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, with one memory left, what are we all thinking?


	24. The siblings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter of memories! Only one update today, back onto the normal chapters tomorrow! :)

_Merlin had always found comfort in storms. Perhaps because he could wield them, or maybe the fact that it silenced out his own mind for a short while. Still, he arrived at the house promptly, knocked on the door as the rain pelted down. His coat, soaked through, his hair dripping, but he still offered a smile to the woman who opened the door. She looked to him, then around the space as if checking that nobody was watching._

_‘Come in.’ She hustled him inside, Merlin grateful as she led him through to a room with a fire, roaring away in the centre. He shrugged off his coat, placed down his briefcase, looked across to where the woman and her husband stood._

_‘I would not believe it possible…’ This was quite common, people terrified and scared of the unexplainable, so Merlin gestured to the chairs. They took a seat, while Merlin opted for standing in front of the fire, staring into the flames._

_‘Tell me from the beginning.’_

_‘Our eldest, she… she can do things. Move objects. We tried to stop her, but she kept doing it. Then, the other day,’ The woman broke off, sobbing into her sleeve, and her husband rubbed his hand over her shoulder, calming her._

_‘Her sister did the same. As if copying.’ Merlin turned to face the couple, looked to the expensive household. A society that expected children to be normal._

_‘And you called me.’ Merlin stated, watching the husband’s eyes closely, the flicker of anger across._

_‘Martha was adamant. Said she couldn’t bear to abandon them.’ How people could leave their own children, Merlin did not understand. He straightened his tie, not hiding the hatred he felt for people like them._

_‘I’d like to see them. Both of them.’ Martha said she would lead him, Merlin following her in the direction of the nursery. The woman walked into the room, turned on a lamp, and Merlin looked to the child._

_She could be no older than four, bright green eyes and a scared expression, like she feared him. Martha was scrambling to leave the room, and Merlin noted the marks on the floor that indicated that there had been a second cot in here. Evidently, they had tried to stop the Magic from spreading to the younger._

_‘This is Eleanor’s room. Alice is next door.’ With that, the woman stepped to the safety of the doorframe, and Merlin crouched down._

_‘Hello, Eleanor. My name’s Merlin.’_

_**_

_‘If she shows any signs, get in touch.’ Merlin handed across his information, closing the briefcase. The younger of the two, Alice, would not have Magic until she grew up, until she re-joined her sister. For that reason, Merlin would only be taking one of the siblings._

_Eleanor had her bag in hand, a brighter expression on her face than earlier. She was excited to go, Merlin had promised her a lifetime of Magic, and that had been enough to thrill her._

_‘Thank you.’ The father said, shaking Merlin’s hand. The Warlock just shrugged, turning to offer his hand to Eleanor, who reached up for it._

_‘We goin’ home, Mer?’_

_**_

_‘Easy, that’s it.’ She sobbed harder, into the collar of his shirt, and Merlin clutched at her. When he pulled back, the twelve-year-old was staring up, green eyes terrified._

_‘I’m a monster.’ Around the two of them, the charred remains of her room. Merlin took one of her hands, offered a smile._

_‘Quite the opposite, El. You’re special. Strong. Like me.’ He twisted her hand, helping her summon the flame to her hand. She flinched, recoiled away like it might hurt, but Merlin held her firmly._

_‘It is not dangerous, Eleanor. You must learn to control it, that is all.’_

_‘But the nightmares! The Magic, it keeps fighting me…’ Another tear, and Merlin brushed it aside._

_‘I had a friend once. She was powerful, like you.’ The girl sat up, intrigued, and Merlin smiled._

_‘What was her name?’_

_‘Morgana.’ The name no longer stung, didn’t ache like it had done before._

_**_

_Alice, the newest resident, looked terrified as she stared around the room. Merlin had taken her in once she had reached fourteen, once she was old enough to learn to control her gift. Beside the younger, stood Eleanor, who was excitedly explaining everything about the place they were living in. At sixteen, she had managed to control her Magic beautifully._

_‘But what if I’m not as powerful as you?’ Alice asked, and Merlin froze at the question. He should not be intruding on the moment, slipped out of the room and back towards his office. There, he opened his laptop, brought up a new document._

_A new name, to add to his files._

**

_‘Concentrate.’ Merlin scolded, and Eleanor scowled up at him. Still, she bent her head back down, concentrated on the rabbit in front. Her hand reached out, and Merlin watched her eyes flick golden, the words tumbling from her lips._

_Slowly, the wound on the rabbit’s leg began to heal. It took time, but eventually, the skin was completely smooth. She sat back, the creature jumping up and sprinting away, racing for the hedge-line._

_‘Impressive, well done.’ Eleanor, at twenty, was his best pupil. Her energy levels were beyond anything he had seen in a long time, and she was beginning to harness it for good. Plus, she had approached him six months ago with a project she wanted to work on._

_To explore the Aztec empire, and to help children long-connected to the power source, to help them harness their magic and use it for good. Merlin had been willing to invest in such a thing, gave her the grants of money and the skills she would need to lead her own group._

_‘I’m so excited to go!’ He laughed, while Eleanor grinned at him._

_‘You’ll do well, and you know if you need me…’_

_‘I only have to call.’ She finished, turning to hug him tightly. Merlin hugged her back, pressed a kiss to her forehead._

_‘Have faith in yourself, Eleanor. Your Magic is incredible.’ Deep in those green eyes, he saw the flicker of fear. But it was replaced with ambition, with strength and courage._

_‘I only wish I could make your dreams come true.’ Arthur. Merlin didn’t flinch this time, could keep her gaze, smiled sadly._

_‘It’s alright, my dear. I’ve long since accepted my fate.’ Had he? The torches still burnt brightly, evidence enough that he refused to give up hope. Eleanor pouted, a move that reminded him of someone he had once known, but he did not dwell on it long. Instead, he wondered how the younger sister would manage, now that her beacon of energy was leaving._

_He might have to teach Alice to harness energy from other places, he mused._


	25. El

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin's waking up, the Knights are confused, and Gwaine is being a good boyf

Merlin narrowly avoided headbutting Eleanor, who was speaking so quickly that the words were blurring inside his head, a vague, annoying buzzing sound that urged him to try and control his thoughts. It took only a few seconds for him to remember where he was, who he was, and what the Hell was going on. Then, he collected all of his thoughts and shoved everything away, focusing on the woman that was staring at him, terrified green eyes so much like the ones he’d just seen.

‘M’alright, El.’ Slightly slurred, just because the headache was raging away, but it seemed to comfort her. She took a step back, cocked her head to the side.

‘You haven’t called me that for ages.’ Merlin looked around the room, to see the other slowly coming around. They’d have similar headaches, nausea and possible disorientation for a while, which he made a note of, in case they needed help. Then, he looked back to the Sorceress in front of him, wondering about all that he had seen.

‘Feels like I’ve gone three rounds with Percy.’ Gwaine groaned, rocked forwards as others snorted at the statement. Eleanor left his side to hand out glasses of what Merlin hoped was something strong. He took his last, downed it in one long gulp, the faint burn of scotch making him smile. Ah, the cure of all Magic-uses.

‘There’s the good stuff.’ Gwaine delightfully commented, stealing the rest of Lancelot’s and draining that as well.

‘Did you see anything?’ Eleanor questioned, and it was like everybody in the room suddenly remembered what they had all seen. Merlin flicked through the memories, on the bits that had stood out as important, then looked to Eleanor. His closest friend, but he wasn’t sure she was going to like where this was going. Not if his fears were confirmed.

‘Bloodlines, all my previous work, it seems to be correct.’ Eleanor brightened, she herself had helped add to his files while out in Mexico and South America.

‘Really? Oh, so somebody brought them back by harnessing the power of a bloodline?’ Merlin looked to her, needed to run a couple of tests before confirming anything, but was pretty sure he knew what was going on. If Mordred’s stare was anything to go by, then the Druid had also figured it out.

‘I’ll need to do some research.’ He lied, hating the way it tasted on his tongue. Eleanor’s smile was so bright, and he wished he could admit what he thought, but he had to be sure. If he was wrong, then it might be bad. Mind you, he thought, it might be worse if he was right.

‘Merlin…’ He’d almost forgotten that he had not been the only one to see what he just had, until Arthur’s voice reminded him that they had seen a lot. He looked to the once-King, to the man that had watched himself burn on the lake, and wondered if he should apologise.

‘Arthur.’ He answered, the word no longer having the burn that it had for most of his life. They’d seen it, the pain and agony of losing everything, of Gwen…

‘I’m sorry I didn’t do more for her.’ Merlin eventually stated, breaking the silence that had fallen. Unable to hold the gaze, he looked back to Eleanor, who looked concerned.

‘Merlin…’ The same tone, only perhaps slightly more urgent, than Arthur’s.

‘I’m fine.’

‘But…’

‘I’m okay!’ He insisted, even if his head was spinning slightly.

‘No you idiot! You’re bleeding!’ Oh, oh maybe that wasn’t as good, he rose his fingers to his nose and, when they came away red, he wondered why. No, he knew why, the spell had taken a toll on his body. And his mind.

‘I need a shower.’ He stood, grimaced when Eleanor caught him stumbling, and then looked back quickly to the Knights. None of them spoke, and Merlin felt the shame and guilt bubble up, swamping his already foggy brain.

He left the room quickly after.

**

Eleanor looked around the room, to the confused men that must have seen… well. She wasn’t quite sure WHAT they had seen, but she could imagine that it hadn't been pretty. The mention of Arthur’s wife, Gwen, that hadn't been surprising. Eleanor suspected that they also saw some memories of the items that Merlin had collected, like the Crown that she had seen when he told her about his past.

The nickname had thrown her, but she found herself smiling at it, it had been a long time since Merlin had called her that. It was an odd relationship, despite raising her, she did not think of him as a father. More a protective older brother, that needed looking after occasionally, for he sometimes forgot to do it himself.

Speaking of siblings, she wished she knew what was going on with hers. Alice had been withdrawn ever since she had arrived, or perhaps earlier. Eleanor hadn't missed the glares, the longing glances to be noticed, and wondered if this was her fault. Maybe she should have explained to her sister that nothing would happen, that Merlin wasn’t like that.

‘Are you alright?’ She checked on Arthur, who looked the palest, crouching down and looking into the bright blue eyes. He looked to her, and she momentarily wondered if he saw her eyes and thought of Morgana. She dismissed the thought quickly, lay a comforting hand on his shoulder.

‘It’s just… a shock.’ Arthur began,

‘We knew he was Immortal, but seeing it…’ Leon’s input,

‘Was different.’ Elyan finished. The group all seemed to be in agreement, while she marvelled at how quickly they could connect each other’s thoughts, could read each other so well. Her gaze then turned to Mordred, who was staring at her with a funny expression. Awe, perhaps, or curiosity.

‘Where’s your sister?’ He inquired, a weird question, but Eleanor thought nothing of it.

‘I’m not quite sure. She said she’s got a job, but she hasn’t said much more. Why?’ Did he want to talk to someone that wasn’t part of this group? It would be understandable, and she tried her best for a sympathetic smile. Mordred ignored it, stood sharply and she was impressed when he didn’t wobble.

‘I’m going to see Merlin.’ That earned him a couple of glares, especially from Gwaine.

‘While he’s in the shower?’ It was a warning, one that Mordred completely ignored.

‘I’ll wait in his room.’ Eleanor was the one to put a hand on Gwaine’s thigh to stop him from moving after the Druid, but it seemed that nobody else would have done. She understood, but if Merlin said he was trying, then she had to believe that.

**

‘Tomorrow, Mordred.’ Gwaine opened the door to Merlin’s room, took in the scene. Merlin, with a set of what he kept calling sweatpants, on, but nothing else. His chest bare, feet curled into the soft carpet. Gwaine momentarily got distracted, not only by the fact he had never seen Merlin in such a state of undress, but the faint scars that were on his skin. He’d ask about every single one, he swore to himself.

Mordred was perched on the edge of the bed, an expression of worry on his face. The moment Gwaine entered, it vanished. He stood excused himself, and Gwaine looked to his sort-of boyfriend.

‘Everything okay?’ Sadly, Merlin was putting a shirt on, much to Gwaine’s disappointment.

‘He’s just a little worried, nothing to panic about.’ Gwaine moved across, gripped the waistband of his trousers and tugged Merlin closer. The fact he could do that, and it earned him a small smile and a blush, one that Gwaine nosed at before placing a gentle kiss.

‘Are you okay?’ Gwaine corrected the question, uncaring about Mordred, more concerned with Merlin. After everything he’d seen…

‘You’re not judging me?’

‘Nothing to judge. And, when you’re ready, I’d like to know your feelings about it.’ Gwaine wasn’t used to this touchy feely stuff, but it made Merlin happy, and he did want to know about the life that Merlin had lived. Like the man, the one named George, that Gwaine felt a pang of jealousy at. Relatively stupid, he was long-gone, but he wanted to know.

‘Thank you, Gwaine.’ Merlin pressed a quick kiss to his lips, a mere ghosting, and Gwaine grumbled when he pulled away. He laughed, a bright thing that spread to Gwaine, chuckling as Merlin stepped away.

‘Dinner?’

Sounded like a brilliant idea.


	26. Danger Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Mordred explain what has happened.

Could it really be true? He looked down to everything he had, all the documents that he had collected, feeling a slight mix of awe, happiness, and trepidation. It was no easy feat, to steal such power to do something as she had, even if she was not aware of what she had done. Merlin looked p to Mordred, who was staring down at the work.

‘This is… not good.’ Merlin was thinking the same thing.

‘We have to find Alice.’ And stop her, from whatever was about to happen. Or had already happened.

‘And tell Eleanor…’

‘Tell me what?’ Merlin turned, found Eleanor standing in the doorway, a hurt look in her eyes. Behind her, the group stood, like they had all come to eat breakfast in his Office, and had all made the mistake of walking in without knocking. He knew how it looked, him and Mordred bent over the papers, huddled close, defensively standing up and Merlin putting a book down on top of the family tree that he’d been studying.

‘Eleanor…’

‘Tell me what, Merlin?’ She wasn’t angry, she was hurt, and he could understand why. There entire relationship was based on trust, and what he was doing, was excluding her. It was wrong. So, he gestured to the chair, watched her cautiously move into the room.

‘Can we…?’ Leon asked, hovering in the doorway, and Merlin beckoned them all in. They came in, the door was shut, and a brief silence fell.

‘We know who brought you all back.’ Merlin stated, and they all looked intrigued, as did Eleanor, who questioned the statement aloud.

‘You did, Eleanor.’ The mug of what he presumed was coffee fell from her hand, hit the floor and stained it dark brown. Silence ensued, and Merlin moved around, walked up to the girl he had raised and crouched down, took her hand in his.

‘You brilliant, clever Sorcerer, you didn’t even know what you were doing, but you brought them back for me.’ He had never been more proud of her, not in all her many accomplishments, nothing compared to how he felt now. Eleanor was staring back, the girl he had told everything to, yet she had not put the pieces together. And, with a heavy heart, Merlin told them everything he knew.

**

‘It’s a part of the bloodline, that’s where the energy is coming. I’ve been tracking it since Avalynn, although I should have been following it long before that. I researched into it, tracked down the families that came from Camelot, that came from Morgause and her child with Cenred…’

‘Morgause had a baby?’ Arthur startled, and Merlin paused his speech, nodding,

‘Yes, but anyway, the baby was sent across to the continent, and from there, I could track its heritance down to modern-day Jordan, and a man named Jasper D’squire, the one that you all saw in the memory. From there, it was a simple job of linking him to Avalynn, and through all the way to the illegitimate child that eventually branched into the Russian Dynasty.’ Merlin was become more and more excited as he spoke, eyes wide and hands gesticulating wildly. Mordred rose, taking over where he had left of,

‘Bloodline magic is powerful, and there are spells that can harness such an energy. Like we saw with the children, Alexei and Anastasia.’ Mordred moved away the book, showing the group the line that Merlin had spent years creating.

‘But, siblings can do something special. They have the ability to tap into the bloodline, to harness each other’s power and amplify it. So, when you brought them back, you didn’t even realise you were doing it. It was just a want, a wish that you had, and you drained Alice’s power in order to do such a thing.’ Eleanor’s eyes were wide, comically so, and Merlin brought her hand to his lips, kissed the back of her hand softly.

‘Eleanor, I can’t thank you enough for what you did, but I can take away the strain from your Magic, the weight you must have felt recently.’ Eleanor took one look around the room, looked to Merlin, and then asked the question he had been dreading.

‘And what about the other sibling?’

**

She’d done it. She had no idea, had never even considered… But it made sense. How, when Merlin called her, she hadn't been that surprised to here that they were alive. That she had been feeling slightly ill, nothing she could identify, just a tightness in her chest that wouldn’t pass, not until she saw Merlin smiling.

She’d brought them back, from a bloodline that connected her all the way back to Morgause, and therefore to Morgana, the woman that had caused all of this pain. Merlin was holding her, cradling her gently and smiling up at her like she had saved him, and all Eleanor could think about was how much he had done for her.

But then his smile fell, at the mention of her sister, and Eleanor knew something had happened.

‘When the spell was cast…’

‘You created a link to the first Sorcerer of the line, bonding your Magic to theirs. Now, you’re powerful enough that it wouldn’t affect you, it’s the tightness that you must have felt, barely noticeable.’ Merlin’s hand began to glow, gently, and he reached up to cup her cheek. She didn’t fight it, had gotten used to the feeling of his Magic ever since she was a child.

Every time she was fearful, every time she needed comfort, it had been Merlin to assure her that she was worth something, that she had a purpose in life. As his Magic met hers, she held still, felt the pressure in her ribcage slowly loosen, until it was a warm pang that ached slightly when his hand left, soothed when he retook her hand.

‘You’ll have the same connection to me, now, that the others do.’ He explained softly, the care in his eyes enough for her to shed tears, but it wasn’t just that. He still hadn't told her about Alice.

‘The link? What’s happened to Alice?’ Merlin looked away, out of guilt or shame, not that he ever needed to feel those things.

‘She’s connected to the Sorcerer at the beginning of the line. And, with that kind of energy…’

‘She could bring them back.’ Mordred finished, and Merlin shot him a glare, full of warning. Eleanor absorbed the information, slowly let it settle.

‘Morgause.’ Leon stated, but Lancelot was the one to get it first.

‘Or worse…’ Mordred began,

‘Morgana.’

**

Alice wasn’t sure why she was here, crawling into the grate that she had just unearthed, staring at the carvings etched into the walls as she lowered herself down to the tomb. It had not been hard to find this place, even if she didn’t really know where it was, Merlin had spoke about it often enough. The place he had taken Morgana’s possessions, the place where he had laid her to rest like he had done to the others.

Somewhere along the line, she must have lost her shoes, for her feet were bare as they walked along the cold stone, and she had found a knife.

Why was she here? It was cold, dark and slightly damp, water dripping down one of the far walls as she walked down the narrow passage. The corridor led to a room, with what appeared to be a stone altar in the centre, and the moment she stepped over the threshold, the torches around the room burst into flames.

Still, she was unsure, approached the altar and found the knife in her hand pressed to her own arm, gliding over the skin and dripping down onto the slab beneath.

She didn’t know why she was here. She wasn’t even sure how this had happened. All she knew was her Magic had been aching, burning inside, and it felt like it was ready to burst.

Words fell from her lips, a spell that she had certainly never heard, and as she watched the blood drip from her arm, she had to conclude that this was blood Magic.

Dark Magic. The kind that Merlin had told her would ruin her soul.

But then, when a cold, feminine voice filled the room, Alice no longer felt any worry at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dunnnnnn  
> Well done to those who figured out it was Eleanor! :)


	27. Hello, Emrys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana's awake, and Gwaine's being a supportive bf

He had to get to her, before she reached him. That was clear, and Merlin was running down the stairs to grab the keys to the nearest car. Mordred was following, as was everybody else, but he couldn’t risk them. Mordred might be able to hold his own, but the others?

‘Merlin, you can’t go alone!’ Arthur protested, still not used to the fact he couldn’t tell him what to do. He ignored the once-King, determined not to let any of them get in harms way. Not even Eleanor, he couldn’t trust that she wouldn’t try to save her sister, letting Morgana escape.

‘Stay here, we’ll be back soon.’ Merlin assured, threw the door open and stalked out onto the driveway, Mordred quick on his step. However, when Gwaine spoke up, he halted.

‘Don’t do this.’ It made him out to be the bad guy, but it wasn’t his fault. Or maybe it was, he was the one that had taught Eleanor, the reason she had the access to the Magic that brought back Arthur, and therefore let Alice go to Morgana.

‘I have to get to her, before she hurts anyone.’ Merlin looked into his eyes, got lost in the endless emotions he found. Gwaine was moving towards him, and Merlin knew his resolve would fail the moment the Knight met him. Sure enough, one hand reached for his waist, the second to his neck and dragged him closer, until he could meet the kiss.

Merlin would never get used to this, to the way it felt when Gwaine kissed him. When he pulled back, Merlin found that his hands had somehow found Gwaine’s cheeks, along the line of stubble.

‘You aren’t alone anymore, Merlin. We’ve faced Morgana before.’ He was distracted, by the lips that were moving, by the softness of Gwaine’s smile.

‘And you died.’ Merlin reminded him, the ache that returned driving him to pull back.

‘Trust me.’ Gwaine simply stated, like it solved everything. Merlin briefly glanced to Mordred, then back to the man he loved more than any other.

‘Fine. But you’re staying back.’

**

Morgana was unsure what had happened, just that she was now awake, and not in the form she had died in. Her dark hair replaced with fair, and when she glanced to her reflection, her eyes were no longer green. Plus, the clothing was bizarre, not the dresses she was used to. The… hole she found herself was dark, a stone altar in the centre that she presumed was her tomb, with the spell that had brought her back buzzing through the air.

Merlin’s magic, no, Emrys’s Magic, was all over this place, implying it had been him that laid her to rest. Strangely, she found it to be a cute gesture, thought back to the times in Camelot where Merlin had attempted to help her. Destiny had drove them apart, that was clear, but she could forgive him. Would forgive him, if Merlin saw sense.

She felt the cave begin to shake and shudder, could see the light of Emrys’ Magic, knew he was coming.

But the others, they were there. The Knights that she despised so much, and her half-brother. They were wearing the same clothes, had no weapons on them, the fools, and the moment she caught sight of them, she reached for her Magic.

He looked the same, her Merlin, although stubble lined his jaw. He held his hand out to the others, and Morgana watched in confusion as they obeyed, fell still. Mordred was there, seemingly forgiving of the fact that his Kara was dead, that Arthur had her killed.

And a girl, who was coming towards her quickly, like she recognised her. Merlin stopped that as well, took the girl’s hand and tugged her back to his side.

‘Morgana.’ Merlin greeted, handed the girl across to Mordred, and came closer to her. His bright eyes, the smile she remembered so well. She could not help but return it. Whatever had happened, wherever they were, Merlin was the one that would tell her the truth. No secrets between them now, not with the Magic exposed.

‘Emrys.’ He came closer, and Morgana closed the distance. If they were going to attack each other, then he would have done something. Her hand reached out, not quite the same as her own skin, reached for his chest. He didn’t stop her, and she traced the edge of the shirt.

‘You can’t be here, Morgana.’ Intriguing, she was not aware that Merlin controlled who lived and who died, yet here he was. He took her hand in his, so gentle, and it seemed that, despite the fact that he looked the same age, his eyes showed the truth. As did his Magic, so much more refined. There was no way she could beat him, the truth would still stand.

‘Always the two of us, Merlin.’ She moved her hand, and he didn’t fight it, traced his cheek gently.

‘How long has it been?’ She asked, traced his cheek and dug the nail in slightly, enough to create a small indent. Merlin’s eyes tracked the movement, his sad smile proof enough that it had been a while. He was no longer angry at her for betraying Camelot, had the time to see things from her point of view.

‘A thousand years, give or take.’

‘You must be lonely.’ Down the back of his neck, into the thick hair, tugging slightly.

‘Not now. Eleanor, the woman over there? She brought back the Knights.’ Morgana briefly flicked her gaze to the girl, slightly surprised by the familiar strain of Magic. Not just because Merlin had taught her, it was also a familiar tinge of dark.

‘She’s like me.’ Morgana remarked, curious, keeping a hold of Merlin.

‘Related, through a long line of Sorcerers. And the woman you’re in? That’s her sister.’ Oh, that’s why the body was not the same. A shame, Merlin had managed to keep his body, why should she not keep hers?

‘How unfortunate.’

‘Surely you see why you cannot stay, to break apart siblings…’ Morgause. She snarled, gripped his neck tightly, but he didn’t fight. Not even when her eyes glowed golden.

‘You killed my sister.’

‘She killed herself, to give you strength.’ Merlin shot back, and the Witch had to give in to the statement, let her grip go.

‘I won’t let her go.’ She sounded like a petulant child, she knew that, but she knew that if she gave up hold of the girl, they wouldn’t catch her. They wouldn’t let her back.

‘There’s another way, Morgana. There always is.’ But could she trust him? The blue eyes, the sad smile, the puppy-dog expression? Was he still the Merlin that would do anything to save Arthur?

‘Trust me.’ Like he could read her mind, and the Witch studied him. All it would take was one leap of faith, one fall into the unknown. She moved closer, until there was barely any space between them, and looked up. Emrys, how had she never noticed?

‘I trust you.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is she good, or is she bad?


	28. Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin has to do what he didn't do last time, save Arthur

Merlin watched her sag into his arms, the trust between the two of them like it had been before he’d tried to kill her. But, as much as he wanted to believe her, he had to look at the facts. She was in Alice’s body, as Eleanor kept mumbling to Mordred while trying to fight her way through. Her Magic, dark and toiling, kept reaching out, dampening the brightness that Merlin had managed to secure across the world.

 _‘Merlin, you cannot possibly trust her!’_ Freya, no matter where he was, always with the ability to talk to him. She was probably trying to get in, trying to access the water that was dripping down the walls. If Freya did not trust her, then it indicated just how badly the world would suffer if he let Morgana free.

‘That’s it.’ He soothed, even as her hands hit bare skin, underneath the shirt he had been wearing. Once upon a time, back in Camelot long before he knew that she would be Arthur’s downfall, he might have considered such a thing. There were moments, brief smiles and quiet words, assurances, and a one-time kiss that he should never have let happen. Plus, he had Gwaine. The Knight that had been killed by her, and the anger bubbled up. He tried to fight it, but it was choking, the remembrance of burning Gwaine’s body because of the Witch driving his hand forwards.

‘Oh Merlin.’ She sobbed into his shoulder, clutched at him deep enough that there would be marks. He wasn’t sure exactly what spell Alice had used to bring back Morgana, but he could figure out how it worked. While Alice was a suitable host, Morgana’s Magic could latch on and fester, and that was what he needed to solve.

‘You’re okay.’ He promised, even if it was a lie, and shifted his hand minutely. He watched as she understood what he had just done, her eyes going wide and lips parting, but he held firm.

‘I…’

‘Shh, that’s it, you’re alright.’ Her body started to crumble, and he heard Eleanor’s shriek as she spotted the knife in Merlin’s hand, the dark, sticky red dripping to the floor. But he wasn’t interested in Eleanor right now, he was watching the Witch in front, who was leaning against him as he lowered her to the floor.

‘Merlin-’ He shifted her, holding her better and dropping the knife, while Morgana reached for him yet again. Not aggression, not even anger, just a sad smile on her face. That was his Morgana, the one from the good times in Camelot, the one that he had trusted with his life.

‘I forgive you.’ She whispered, gently, and her eyes lost the tint of madness that always seemed to hang around her. One hand over the wound, the other against his cheek as he held her still, waiting for the moment that had to come.

‘And I, you.’ He assured, surprised when her thumb brushed across his cheek. Wet, and not just from the blood on her fingers. How many mixed emotions, how many different things he wanted to say…

‘Was… a good life. Before. Should have…’ It had been a thousand years for him, but for Morgana, it had been barely any time at all. And, as much as he wanted to deny that he still cared for the Witch, he had been the one to build her a Crypt. He had been the one that had hesitated to kill her all along, and it all boiled down to this. To the way she smiled up, and he no longer saw Alice’s face, just hers. His Morgana. The one before the hatred and burning anger.

‘One last time?’ She questioned, and Merlin held her face, cradled it as he leant down to kiss her. It felt wrong, it wasn’t the one he wanted to be holding, but he had to admit, that this was mostly his fault. The kiss was brief, a goodbye, rather than a promise. Magic, that was what he could feel spiralling out of control, his own crying out in anguish as she slipped from the body she was in.

As soon as he was sure that it was just Alice left inside, he let go of the body.

‘Mordred, heal Alice.’ The Druid let go of Eleanor, who was sobbing in the corner, and rushed to the fallen girl. Merlin focused on the Altar, began to mutter words that would lock her back down, that would set her to rest from where she had been woken.

‘I need…’ Mordred didn’t have to finish the sentence, Merlin gifted across some of his own Magic to help him heal the girl, while he continued to fix the mess she had made. The mess that, deep down, he knew that he had made.

‘Freya.’ That was Gwaine who spoke, just before a hand touched his shoulder. He might have been shaking, but he wasn’t sure, not until Freya’s hands closed over his, held them in place.

‘Concentrate, Merlin.’ Always there for him, throughout these thousand years, the strength he needed to rely on. The focus let his Magic spill out, green and orange wisps that closed over the altar, and he wasn’t the only one who heard Morgana’s voice ring out, one last time echoing across the room.

_‘Thank you, love.’_

**

Mordred stepped back when Merlin reached for Alice, scooped her up into his arms and lifted. The Druid knew better than to question Merlin’s affection for Morgana, or the blade that lay abandoned on the floor. He hadn't quite been sure what Merlin would do, but he had never thought he would see the affection on the Warlock’s face.

‘Eleanor, she’ll be okay.’ Merlin stated, evidently affected by the sobbing coming from the corner, and Mordred returned to comfort her. Alice lay on the altar, Merlin on one side, Freya on the other, and the golden power radiating from the Warlock was proof of just how strong he was. That, combined with the wet cheeks, tears tracking through the smeared blood.

When Alice sat bolt-upright, gasping for air, Merlin was the one to offer a place to cry. She grabbed at him, movements sluggish and uncoordinated, the opposite of the Witch. Merlin held her steady, whispered things into her ear much like he had done with Morgana, but this was not the same emotion. His tears were not for her.

Eleanor went running, grabbed at her sister and two cried quietly together, while Merlin stepped away from the altar. Freya moved to his side, a hand slipped into his, while she leant in to murmur something that not even Mordred could pick up. Merlin listened, then gave a nod, and the girl disappeared entirely.

**

Eleanor would not let her sister go, not now, not ever. Even as they huddled back into the house, Merlin flicking the lights on and hanging up the keys, while she focused on getting Alice to the shower. Watching Merlin stab her, even if it wasn’t Alice… It had been horrible to witness. She needed to thank Merlin, because she knew it had to have been tempting, to keep Morgana.

Still, she could have that conversation later. Merlin went in the direction of his room, shoulders slumped and a sad aura hanging over him, and Eleanor glanced back to Gwaine. The man looked unsure, and she left her sister for a mere moment to go to his side.

‘He needs your comfort, now more than ever.’ Gwaine cocked his head, a little like a lost puppy, and she gave him what she hoped was a sincere smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's coming to the end, but what do you guys want to see in the last chapters? More Merwaine, obvs, but fluffy stuff? Smut?


	29. Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin gets some kisses, then a long-needed nap. Plus some Jealous! Gwaine

The only thing he could do was sink to the floor, let the water rush over him. Soaking his body, his clothes, but Merlin didn’t care. He had done the right thing, had done the thing that would save Arthur. That was what he had to keep reminding himself, his brain buzzing so loudly he did not realise that there was someone else until Gwaine was crouched down.

His dark hair was plastered to his face, the water soaking through his clothing, and Merlin fought to keep his gaze off the man. A hand reached out, closed over his knee, and Merlin revelled in how the touch grounded him.

‘Merlin…’ The Warlock didn’t want the sympathy, just wanted to feel something other than the pain that kept aching in his bones. That drove him forwards, gripping Gwaine’s shirt and dragging him close, a kiss with bruising ferocity. The other man, if he was shocked, managed to hide it well. Arms moved around him, dragged Merlin onto Gwaine’s lap like he weighed nothing, and Merlin could forget everything that had happened.

Hot kisses trailed from his lips to his neck, teeth nipping at the skin gently, but it wasn’t enough. Merlin wrapped his fingers into Gwaine’s wet hair, tugged at it hard to demonstrate what he wanted, and was rewarded by a bite that would leave a mark. The moan was drowned out by the water rushing over them, Merlin rocking forwards against the strong body that held him in place. Hands were moving under his shirt, until they got impatient and ripped at the fabric, Merlin aiding the process and stripping off the broken fabric.

Gwaine’s shirt went next, and Merlin was picked up, hooked his legs around Gwaine’s waist and let his back hit the shower wall, while Gwaine settled between his legs like he belonged there. He did, Merlin realised, kissed him hard enough that he tasted blood.

The anger bled away, and when Merlin let his eyes open, it was to the worried gaze of Gwaine. Yes, there was the lust that he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t just that. Concern, and Merlin let his head rest against Gwaine’s, breathed in carefully.

‘Come on.’ Gwaine switched the shower off, while Merlin remained pliant. A towel was wrapped around him, hands undoing the buttons on his trousers and tugging them off, but not going for the boxers. Merlin wobbled when the hands left him, but they were back as soon as Gwaine had a towel around himself.

He didn’t protest, when Gwaine clambered into his bed soaking wet, because Merlin was pulled alongside him. The Warlock moved between the man’s thighs, settled his head over Gwaine’s heart, let himself rest there.

‘You did what you had to do, Merlin.’ He’d killed his friend, the woman he should have saved. He’d let Alice get hurt. He hadn't trusted that Morgana wanted to change, because he was terrified of losing the others.

‘Should have helped her.’ Merlin mumbled against his chest, marvelling at just how strong Gwaine was. The once-Knight sighed, ran his fingers through Merlin’s wet hair.

‘You did.’ That seemed to settle the matter, and Merlin looked up, wondered if he should be thanking Gwaine for everything. For letting this happen.

‘I… I have to admit, I was jealous, watching the memory of you and that man, George.’ That wasn’t what Merlin was expecting, and he blinked back shock to prop himself up on Gwaine’s chest, staring at his sort-of boyfriend.

‘I know it’s wrong, you have a right to be with anyone you wish…’

‘We only kissed.’ Merlin cut in, and Gwaine’s eyes widened, then his face turned into a confused mess. It was rather cute, not that Merlin would tell him that.

‘And with Freya…’ So, he’d figured that one out.

‘The same.’ Merlin concluded, and watched as Gwaine understood what that meant.

‘There was nobody else?’ How could there be? Merlin had spent a thousand years pining over everybody he lost, some more than others.

‘No.’ Merlin assured, and Gwaine’s pupils expanded, Merlin unable to resist leaning in to kiss him. This time, it was soft and sweet, and the Warlock settled back down on top of him.

‘I’m not moving.’ He warned, and Gwaine laughed.

‘Stay as long as you like.’

**

Lancelot had managed to organise the group, they had showered and changed clothes, and he’d found some food for them. Mordred had assisted, and they ate in silence, before wondering if they should take some to Merlin. They made a plate for both him and Gwaine, before Arthur spoke up.

‘There is still so much we don’t know about Magic.’ It was true. This had just proved how much they had to learn, the things they would need to ask Merlin.

‘Do you think Alice will be alright?’ Elyan inquired, before the question was answered when Eleanor walked in. She had a brighter smile on her face, although her eyes were still red from crying.

‘Hi.’ Meek, not the usual confidence that she echoed out.

‘I believe we should be thanking you.’ Arthur began, and Eleanor shook her head adamantly.

‘I didn’t do it for you, I did it for Merlin. He… he needed you back. All of you.’ Lancelot was beginning to realise how much that was true, watched the woman collect some food and disappear back into the home, probably to her sister.

They gathered the food they had made, making their way to Merlin’s room. Lancelot was the one to knock, before Gwaine’s voice rang out, and he risked opening the door.

Merlin was curled up, definitely asleep, tucked under Gwaine’s arm like he belonged there. He did, Lancelot realised, had never seen either of his friends so happy. Still, he took the tray from Elyan and walked in, Gwaine slowly moving away from Merlin to stare at the snacks.

Then, the strangest thing. Despite the promise of chocolate, fizzy drinks and the jam sandwiches that Percival had made, Gwaine turned back to Merlin instead.

‘Thanks, Lance.’ The man watched, mostly in shock, as Gwaine settled back down, wrapped his arm around Merlin. The Warlock, still deep in slumber, shuffled closer and tucked his head under Gwaine’s chin, before falling still again.

Lancelot shut the door gently, found Arthur’s gaze on him.

‘He’s serious.’ Lancelot should have known that it would take an enigma like Merlin to capture Gwaine’s heart.

‘He is.’


	30. Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwaine and Merlin fluff, mostly. Let me indulge in my favourite boys

‘You should come and see this.’ The group gathered to the window, peering out to the grass, startled by the thing they saw.

Merlin and Eleanor, both who had short-blades in hand, darting across the grass at each other. It wasn’t vicious, they were both laughing and had bright golden burning in their eyes, but it was a sight to see. Punches, kicks, dives and blows were exchanged, both moving with a fluidity that surprised Arthur.

His servant, the Merlin from Camelot, hadn't had any interest in learning to fight. Yet, against Eleanor, he could tell they had been training for a while. Sitting to the side, Alice was propped up with a pillow, watching the two and cheering on her sister whenever she placed a good hit.

‘That’s our Merlin.’ Leon stated with a laugh, Arthur nodding along, just as confused as the others.

‘My Merlin.’ Gwaine grumbled, but with a small smile on his face. Arthur would have protested, except he saw the way that Gwaine stared at the Warlock, the utter adoration. The Once-King turned to speak to the man, but he had already slipped out and was walking towards the door.

**

‘That’s cheating!’ Merlin protested with a laugh as his dagger went flying, burying into a tree and another spell was shoved at him. This one he deflected, counter-attacked and Eleanor went skidding back, rolled and re-stood, eyes flicking golden.

Alice had no Magic. He had tried to find even a hint of her previous energy, but, so far, there was nothing to find. She was back to relying on her sister for energy, and Merlin made a note to keep her included, in case she felt left out by such a thing.

‘Duck!’ Merlin heard Gwaine’s voice, listened and just about avoided the fireball he had been too distracted to notice. Eleanor charged with the dagger, and this time, Merlin paid attention. He counted the strides, moved one leg back to support him, and blocked the blow she attempted. A well-placed hit to her wrist and the dagger was dropped, he twisted her arm and Eleanor followed it, flopping to her back and Merlin pinned her wrist with his foot.

‘Alright, alright. Mercy.’ He snorted, released the hold and helped her up, before turning to Gwaine.

‘I didn’t know you could fight like that.’ Oh, it sounded like a challenge, and sure enough, Gwaine had that same twinkle in his eye that meant mischief. Merlin watched in amusement as Eleanor threw him her dagger, which he caught and twirled, eyeing up Merlin like lunch.

Merlin reached back, his dagger coming back from the tree to hit his hand.

‘Is using Magic cheating?’ He inquired, and Gwaine shrugged.

‘Depends on whether you want a fair fight.’ Merlin decided that, for now, his Magic could be held back. He gripped the dagger, made a come-hither motion with his fingers, and Gwaine lunged.

Merlin had learnt to fight shortly after the fall of Camelot. To begin with, he missed watching Arthur and the Knights train, thought that by adding a sense of memory he may stay sane. But he’d quickly realised he couldn’t wield swords very well, and so he and Freya trained on the shores of the Lake of Avalon, with daggers made of water.

It progressed, to the point where Merlin could wield Excalibur if he had to. He trained with some of the greatest weapon-wielders to live, Kings and Princes and Warriors that would make their country proud. That didn’t mean he was great, he still too often relied on his Magic to assist him in some situations. But this was Gwaine, he knew how Gwaine fought, and the Knight hadn't practiced since he’d gotten back, despite Merlin offering them access to the Gym.

So, he managed to avoid the pure-power behind Gwaine’s punches, ducked and blocked the blows. Merlin didn’t have weight on the man, so he had to work with being smaller. That meant attacking where Gwaine couldn’t move fast enough to block, quick blows that would tear away at stamina, rather than be strong enough to knock him down. Sliding a leg between Gwaine’s, avoiding the dagger hand, he pulled one leg out from underneath him.

Which would have worked, had Gwaine not gripped him and tugged him down with him. Back in Camelot, Merlin had watched the Knights wrestle in the dirt countless times, but he never thought it would be him. Still, he managed to get the dagger from Gwaine’s grip, only realised quite how tiny he was compared to Gwaine when sitting astride his chest. Gwaine bucked up, and Merlin went sprawling into the dirt. He was quicker that Gwaine expected, managed to scramble out and twist over Gwaine, until the man got a mouthful of dirt.

He went to stand up, to reclaim the dagger he’d lost, but an arm wrapped around his waist trying to stop him. Merlin grimaced, ducked and bent over fast enough for Gwaine to go over his shoulder.

The man lay there, staring up at him while Merlin tried not to laugh.

‘I-Impressed?’ Merlin managed to bite out, gasping for air while trying to hold in the laughter. Gwaine shot him his best puppy-dog eyes, which only made Merlin laugh harder. He tried to move back, but a hand wrapped around his ankle and he went down like a stone, quickly joined by the weight of Gwaine on top of him.

‘Impressed.’ Gwaine agreed, before getting off of him and letting him up. Merlin looked down to the mess of his clothes, muttered a quick spell to clean himself up. Eleanor was laughing, trying to hide it behind her hand, and even Alice was smiling.

‘Idiot.’ Merlin stated, and Gwaine looked mock-offended.

‘Me? Never. Think you can clean me up?’ Merlin rolled his eyes at the playfulness, but did as asked and cleaned Gwaine’s clothes as well. He went to go back to the house, but Gwaine caught his hand and tugged him back.

‘What’s up?’

‘I was serious, you know. That was impressive.’ Merlin could feel himself blushing, looked down at the floor while Gwaine tipped his chin, a proud smile on his lips.

‘Thank you.’ Merlin muttered, before Gwaine did the typical-smirk and then leant forwards, Merlin happily pressing into the kiss. Gwaine’s hands spanned across his hips, held him gently while the kiss knocked any air out of Merlin’s lungs.

‘Beautiful.’ Merlin whispered when Gwaine pulled back, the older man returning the blush before Eleanor broke the moment.

‘Idiots, the both of you. Ridiculously cute idiots.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost at the end, I think I've got two more chapters planned, unless anyone wants to see any specific fluff


	31. Forbearnan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut and fluff this chapter guys

The two huddled close, and Merlin held Gwaine’s large hand in his two smaller hands, cradling it carefully. It was dark, the moon providing little light for the field, but it was enough to make out Gwaine’s excited face. They’d been watching Merlin’s Magic for a while, butterflies and sparks of light that Merlin had been more than happy to provide. Now, Merlin looked across to the other man, smiled.

‘Try it.’ Gwaine scoffed, rolled his eyes in a fond manner that never failed to make Merlin smile.

‘This is ridiculous, it won’t work.’ Merlin pulled his best puppy-dog eyes, and Gwaine sighed, leant in to press a kiss to his forehead, before looking back to his hands. Merlin had absolute faith in this, he knew it would work, and couldn’t wait to see the same light in Gwaine’s eyes.

 _‘Forbearnan._ ’ The orange flame flicked to life, tiny, and Gwaine startled and the connection broke. He went very still, then looked to Merlin, mouth hanging open.

‘How…?’

‘The Old Religion is fond of me. And I’m fond of you.’ That earned him a kiss, a slightly more heated one, and Merlin was more than pleased to let his lips part. However, Gwaine was more fascinated with his new ability than Merlin, pulled away to focus back on his hand. The second time, the flame was stronger, danced in the darkness as Gwaine held it steady.

‘Stunning.’ Gwaine folded his fingers into his palm, then grabbed Merlin and rolled the two of them into the grass. He laughed, went willingly until he was sprawled out on top of the man. Then, he dotingly placed kisses across his face, before ducking his head to his jawline and neck. Gwaine groaned happily, tipped his head back to give Merlin more space to work.

‘S’nice, the future.’ Merlin hummed in agreement, before sucking a mark onto the side of his neck, marvelling in how Gwaine responded to his touch. He moved back to his lips, Gwaine kissing back just as harshly, teeth nipping and sucking and happy sounds that both of them swallowed down. This time, they rolled so Merlin was underneath, spread his legs so that Gwaine could settle between them.

Something changed, the heat was like a furnace, and Merlin tugged at the hem of Gwaine’s shirt until he took it off, followed by his own. It felt good, pressed down into the grass under his weight, arching up into every touch that the man offered. When a hand went exploring his chest, Merlin arched up into the touch, surprised when he felt a similar issue to the one he was facing in his trousers.

Gwaine looked amused as Merlin felt his cheeks heating up, tried to get Gwaine to keep kissing him to hide the fact that he was nervous. It seemed that Gwaine knew what he was doing, refused to break eye contact as he rocked his hips forwards slightly, and Merlin gasped at the pressure. It was new, a feeling that he hadn't ever had, despite his thousand-years of living.

‘Good?’ Gwaine’s voice had dropped dangerously low, a sound that Merlin wanted to hear more of. He nodded, before Gwaine’s lips were back against his, and he could forget the embarrassment.

Confidence drove him to replicate the movement that Gwaine had tried, arching his hips up into the heat against him. The moan that escaped Gwaine’s lips sent any remaining blood rushing south, and Merlin wanted more. He wasn’t sure where the hunger had come from, but he wasn’t going to let it stop him, bucked up again.

‘Easy, we’ll get there.’ Gwaine assured, before kissing down his neck. His hand was moving to Merlin’s waistband, paused when it hit the buttons until Merlin nodded, then verbally answered when Gwaine growled. The buttons flicked open, a startling ease considering Gwaine was new to the idea of denim, and fingers started creeping under.

Oh, Merlin was pretty sure he was going to die a very happy man. How had he ignored these feeling for so long? If he’d known it would be this good… No, he was glad that he had waited for Gwaine, especially when he felt stubble brushing over one of his nipples, before lips sealed over it.

‘Oh, oh God.’ Gwaine chuckled, one hand holding down Merlin’s waist as the other worked open his boxers, finally wrapped around him. It felt good, too good, and Merlin’s eyes shot open as he tried to simultaneously get more, and move away. Teeth were grazing his skin, rough fingers stroking in a way that had Merlin pleading, but he wasn’t entirely sure what for.

‘That’s it, you’re doing so well.’ Gwaine praised, kissing back up to his neck, and Merlin was just glad that he wasn’t doing this wrong. Shaky hands reached for Gwaine’s belt, the man frowning down at him.

‘You sure?’ Merlin found the concern slightly amusing, like Merlin couldn’t stop him if he didn’t want something like this to happen. Not that he would, he trusted Gwaine with everything he had.

‘Yes. Yes, please.’ He was babbling, he knew that, and Gwaine’s proud smirk didn’t help the feeling. Still, the man helped Merlin unbuckle the belt and shoving the jeans down enough, and Merlin felt his gaze drawn…

‘Eyes up here, sweetheart.’ Gwaine mocked, but kindly, and Merlin was pretty sure his ears and cheeks were stealing what little blood he didn’t have rushing south. Gwaine kissed him, softer than Merlin had been expecting, before his hips lowered to meet Merlin’s.

The shout he let out was muffled by Gwaine’s mouth, and suddenly he didn’t have enough ability to manoeuvre, he wanted his legs free. He only knew his eyes were glowing because he could see it reflected in Gwaine’s eyes, his Magic seemingly taking over and the jeans were discarded, along with his boxers, so Merlin could tangle his legs with Gwaine’s.

‘Shit, so good.’ Gwaine grumbled, bit down onto his neck and Merlin tilted his hips up, urging him to start moving. A rough hand grabbed both of his, hooked them above his head and held them there, stretching him out and keeping him pinned. When Merlin tried to look away, Gwaine used his other hand to move his chin, so he was forced to meet his gaze. His eyes were burning golden, he could feel it, and Gwaine looked awfully pleased.

‘Eyes on me.’ The command was given in the low tone that made something in Merlin’s stomach swirl, and he nodded his head quickly, desperate for the man to keep moving. The hand left his chin, moved to his thigh and hooked under it, and then Gwaine was moving.

It felt too good, being pressed up against Gwaine, Merlin whining pitifully at the overwhelming sensation. The sound was dirty, a wet slapping that he knew was mostly his own fault, but Gwaine didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the other man looked just as consumed as Merlin felt.

The kiss was hungry, desperate, and Merlin sucked away the taste of blood from whichever one of them had broken skin. It was getting to be too much, and he wasn’t naïve enough not to recognise the feeling building in his gut.

‘Please, Gwaine please, need…’ He wasn’t sure what he was begging for, but Gwaine was quick to comfort, to kiss and urge him onwards, to dig his fingers into his thigh and give him the friction he needed.

‘I’ve got you, that’s it sweetheart, doing so well.’ That was all Merlin could take, his eyes squeezed shut and he gasped, arching up as the pleasure broke. Gwaine shouted, heat flooding across his stomach, before the man slumped down and Merlin snuggled up against him, tucked his head into the crook of Gwaine’s neck.

They were both sweaty and sticky, but Merlin couldn’t have hidden the grin even if he tried. When Gwaine regained enough strength to prop himself up, Merlin saw the same smile, before he started laughing. Merlin looked around, realised what Gwaine was finding so amusing.

It wasn’t the flowers that had randomly spread out from where they were, or the butterflies that had landed on them. No, it was the wild rabbits that seemed to have gathered on the edge of the meadow, looking across to where they were.

‘Shut up!’ Merlin hit him playfully, while Gwaine continued to laugh and rolled back onto the grass. Eventually, Merlin joined in, until the laughter faded.

‘Good?’ Like it was even a question.

‘Good.’ Merlin confirmed, reached out to link his fingers with Gwaine’s.

‘Your eyes are still glowing.’ Huh, it had been a while since his Magic had done something without him asking it to. He wasn’t complaining.

‘Fancy cleaning us up?’

**

Arthur almost choked on his cereal when Gwaine came swanning into the kitchen, a smug look that was only made worse by the marks on his neck. Eleanor burst out laughing, and Gwaine grabbed her hand and spun her around, before kissing the top of her head.

‘Good morning, Gwaine.’ She stated with a smile, and Gwaine shot his best smile back.

‘A very good morning to you, Eleanor.’ Arthur groaned, wondered if repeatedly banging his head against the table would get the thoughts out of his head. He knew, just as everyone else did, the exact reason for Gwaine’s good mood.

Every flower in the house, every plant that surrounded the large building, was suddenly in the middle of blooming. Eleanor had commented on how her Magic felt lighter than it had in years, and the children had seemed happy when they’d come in for their breakfast. Now, combined with Gwaine’s good mood…

‘Did you have a good evening?’ Eleanor inquired cheekily, and Elyan threw a sponge at her from where he was washing dishes.

‘Don’t encourage him!’

‘A very good evening, full of Magic and butterflies and some pesky rabbits.’ Not the answer they’d been expecting, confused faces staring to the man, who was humming to himself as he stole some of the pancakes Eleanor had been cooking.

‘Rabbits?’ Arthur shouldn’t have asked, because the grin was downright dirty.

‘Who knew they were such voyeurs?’ The group of men simultaneously groaned, while Eleanor burst into laughter, and Gwaine looked so proud. He grabbed the plate of pancakes, swanned across to the syrup with a spring in his step.

‘How’s Merlin?’ Lancelot asked, and that earned an even brighter smile.

‘Fine. Happy. Struggling to lose the golden eyes.’ Presumably why he had sent Gwaine for breakfast.

‘Magic can be unpredictable.’ Eleanor agreed, and Gwaine walked across to one of the candles on the windowsill.

‘It can.’ He reached out for a fork, pausing to stare at the candle.

 _‘Forbearnan.’_ When the candle lit perfectly, Arthur dropped his own fork, stared at Gwaine’s briefly golden eyes.

‘Huh.’ And with that, the man was gone, singing a song about rabbits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should be the last chapter, if I can bear to say goodbye to my boys


	32. Sunday Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group reunite for a meal, with Gwaine's head focused on one thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end chapter guys! Please do enjoy :)

Arthur pulled into the driveway, still getting used to the whole driving-a-car business. Still, he parked it relatively successfully, stepped out and looked up to the house. Gathering for a Sunday dinner, it seemed like he might be early, but he had a job to do first. Opening the back door of the car, he helped out the little girl, he looked up with wide eyes.

‘Is this it?’ She asked, mumbling from behind the fingers she was chewing on, and Arthur nodded.

‘We’ll go and get you settled in.’ Arthur led the way, the girl following closely behind, and he walked into the familiar home, spotting Eleanor first.

‘Arthur!’ He greeted her, pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, before Eleanor was focused on the girl.

‘You must be Poppy. My name’s Eleanor, and I help look after everybody with Magic!’ Poppy looked to Arthur, who nodded with what he hoped was a sincere expression. Poppy removed her fingers from her mouth, offering it out to Eleanor, who took her hand with a bright smile.

‘This way sweetheart. You can get the papers to Merlin?’ Arthur agreed, moved to the stairs and in the direction of Merlin’s office. He walked past Max, who was chasing a squealing Alex through the corridors, before reaching the Office. Knocking was probably a good idea, considering he’d heard from Lancelot that the poor man had walked in on something he definitely did not need to see, but Gwaine was out with Percival and Elyan at the moment, so he strode right in.

‘Arthur.’ Merlin stood up, came across to hug him like they hadn't seen each other in years. It had, in fact, only been two months since he’d last seen the Warlock, but that seemed to be too much. They’d spoke on the phone a couple of times, considering it was Arthur’s first time branching out by himself, without any of the others following.

‘I’ve got the paperwork for Poppy.’ He handed the briefcase across, Merlin taking it with a look of excitement that usually came when another child with Magic was found.

‘How’s everything going?’ Arthur asked, sitting down in one of the comfy chairs.

‘Good! Lancelot and Alice have managed to start up the second-home, for non-permanent residents. Elyan and Percival have managed to start the education programme, and Leon’s just flown back in from Mexico with Lily.’ Arthur wouldn’t have thought that his Knights would one day become the representatives for Magic across the globe, nor that Merlin would have been, technically, their boss. Still, he didn’t ever tell them what to do, not that he had to.

Leon had been the one to offer to go out to Mexico, with Eleanor’s wife in tow, to check on the school. Eleanor couldn’t leave just yet, Alice was still reliant on visits from her sister to keep her Magic topped up.

‘Sounds good. Need any help with the lunch?’ It was a once-a-month thing, although he’d missed the last two, a meal where they could all sit down and talk about what they had been doing. It usually consisted of Gwaine attempting to set things on fire, with his new-found ability to access small parts of Merlin’s Magic.

‘You can try, but I got shooed out of the kitchen by Lily, brandishing a spoon as a weapon.’ Very fierce, Eleanor’s wife was not one to be messed with. Arthur shuddered, before accepting the drink that Merlin poured, the Warlock settling opposite him.

‘And how are you?’ He was referring to his relationship with Gwaine, obviously, but they never really spoke about it aloud. Not like this, just the two of them. Still, the smile that crossed Merlin’s face was enough to assure Arthur that the man was treating him well.

‘Good. This is… more than I could have hoped for.’ Arthur agreed, their glasses clinked, and he took a long gulp of the whiskey.

**

‘Gwaine.’ Merlin scolded, but the man knew he wasn’t really in trouble, not when Merlin was still trying to hide his smile. He did as told though, sat back and allowed Eleanor to plate him up his lunch, offering his best flirtatious smile in her direction. She, of course, laughed, while her wife chuckled from the corner.

He had returned from his “bro-session”, as Merlin had taken to calling it, with Percival and Elyan just in time to see the food being placed on the table. It was nice, to have everybody back together for a meal, even if it meant sitting across from Arthur’s ugly face. He had made sure to say that bit aloud, which earned him a kick under the table.

‘To friendship.’ Lancelot offered the toast, which Gwaine found rather boring and mundane for a table of magic-users or their advisors, but still.

‘To a good meal.’ Percival added, nodding to the two chefs of the table, while Gwaine snuck in a bite of potato while they were too busy toasting. Merlin pinched his thigh under the table, more of a turn-on than a scolding, if Gwaine was being honest.

‘And to Magic.’ That seemed to conclude the toasts, which Gwaine had found pointless, before he started to tuck in. His boyfriend watched him fondly, eating a lot slower, so it gave Gwaine the opportunity to steal some of the best things from his plate.

The meal was accompanied with the usual chatter, tales from Arthur’s trip to Scotland in search of a family hiding their child from the government, Leon and Lily’s adventures in Mexico, Percival’s attempts to avoid being attacked during a vicious game of dodgeball in a school not far from here. Gwaine listened to the stories, while keeping a close eye on Merlin, the bright smile never fading from his face.

Lancelot was giving him a look, one that told Gwaine he should probably be less obvious about the plan he had for this afternoon. In truth, he hadn't been this nervous since Camelot, and the box in his jacket felt a lot heavier than it had when he’d bought it three-weeks prior.

Arthur knew, he could tell. That meant that the entire table probably were aware of what was going to happen, apart from Merlin, who was blessedly naïve when it came to Gwaine’s plans.

The doorbell rang, and Eleanor went to grab it, while Gwaine reached into his jacket to check the box was still there.

‘I’ll go and grab another bottle of wine.’ Merlin rose, walking towards the cellar, and Gwaine felt his nerves build.

‘Today?’ Arthur asked briefly, heads turning to Gwaine, who nervously nodded. Perhaps eating all of that food was a bad idea, he felt rather sick.

‘You shouldn’t worry, he’ll say yes.’ Alice assured him, while Eleanor came running back into the room.

She looked scared. Wide eyes, a pale face, eyes darting to the empty seat at the table.

‘Love?’ Lily rose, reaching out, and it was then that Gwaine looked behind Eleanor.

Freya, who looked very unstable in this form, bleeding from a nasty cut along her side.

‘Someone’s coming for Merlin.’ Eleanor breathed out, just as they heard a crash from the cellar. Gwaine might have knocked his chair over, but he couldn’t care less as he took the stairs three at a time, sprinting down into the darkness and freezing.

There was no Merlin. Just a smashed bottle, red seeping out across the stone floor where it had broken open.

Merlin was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bam bitches, I'm done ;)


End file.
